


Love and Other Lies

by BlakeyCake



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence, F/M, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-18 11:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16117961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlakeyCake/pseuds/BlakeyCake
Summary: "'Well…I sort of accidentally told my whole family I have a boyfriend and now they’re expecting me to bring him to a wedding shower and I can’t say no or it’ll be totally humiliating and I said he was a cop and I’m pretty much desperate and you brought me coffee.” Amy lets the words out in one breath, so quickly they’re nearly unintelligible. Jake’s eyes widen so comically that she thinks they might pop out of his head, and her chest tightens in terror as she sees unbridled glee surface behind his dark brown irises.“Amy Santiago,” Jake says incredulously, smugly savoring every syllable. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”“Fake boyfriend.”'Season 1 canon divergence involving fake dating, AKA my favorite trope in the world!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello, thanks for stopping by! this takes place in late season one and diverges from there. more has already been written and the whole thing is planned out so expect plenty of pining, denial of feelings, and sexual tension. i binged all of b99 this summer and these two idiots own my heart, hope you enjoy!

     Amy Santiago is a terrible liar. Forever a stickler for the rules, the very idea of dishonesty has always been abhorrent to her, tracing all the way back to when she was five and had insisted on revealing her true age to the movie theater cashier when her mom tried to get her in for the toddler price. In adulthood, she’s never been able to lie even when she’s wanted to, her voice shooting up several octaves and her forehead crinkling when Boyle asks if she likes his horse hoof casserole or Scully asks if she’s heard the story of the time he accidentally ate his own toe jam. For the most part, Amy has resigned herself to a lifetime of honesty, so she’s not sure what comes over her at the Santiago family dinner on a random Sunday in the middle of February. Maybe it’s the fact that all seven of her brothers have brought significant others, all smiling cutely at each other over the mashed potatoes. Or maybe it’s the way that her mother frowns slightly every time Amy mentions another night spent working late, or how she keeps trying to slip in subtle mentions of her hairstylist’s doctor son into the conversation. Whatever the case, when her brother Tony’s fiancé Tia asks Amy if she has a boyfriend, she finds herself nodding, much to the surprise of the other twenty-two assorted adults and children at the table. Suddenly, Amy is bombarded with an onslaught of questions, and panic bells ring through her head as she attempts to answer the rapid-fire interrogation.

     “What does he do?” Amy’s mom asks, barely containing her glee.

     “He’s a cop,” Amy answers with the first thing that pops into her head.

     “How long have you been together?”

     “Oh, a few weeks now.”

     “And how’s it going?”

     “Great! He knows me so well, already has my coffee order memorized.” Amy is shocked at her own abilities, and wonders if maybe she should ask Captain Holt if she should go undercover.

     “How’d you meet?” Luis’s wife Christina smiles gently, and Amy is simultaneously delighted and insulted by how excited they all are at the idea of her love life being semi-active.

     “At work.” Amy hardly recognizes the fib as it flows out of her mouth, and she has no idea how much longer she can keep this up before her moral compass curls up, dies, and then rolls over in its grave. “Before you ask any more, though, we’re actually trying to keep things under wraps. He takes care of a lot of scheduling at the precinct, so he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s playing favorites – have to keep things professional.” Amy does an internal victory dance at her sudden stroke of genius. “We’re so happy, y’know, just don’t want to pop the bubble!” _Okay, so maybe that was a little bit of overkill_ , she thinks to herself with a frown, but it’s worth it to see all the stunned, pleasantly surprised faces around her.

     “Well, I think that’s great,” her father says gruffly, and Amy feels a pang of guilt for misleading one of the most morally upright people she knows. She quickly forgets about it, though, when her nephew singsongs _Aunty Amy’s got a boyfriend_ , and his mom reprimands him as the rest of the table erupts into laughter, and soon they’ve moved onto other topics of conversation.

     A few weeks later, Amy has mostly forgotten about her temporary lapse in morality. She’s at the precinct late on a Monday, intently flipping through pages of hotel guest logs as she attempts to crack a particularly difficult B&E, when her mom calls, the shrill ring of her cell phone startling her out of her concentrated scrutiny. When she picks up, her mother sounds almost nervous.

     “Hey, are you still dating that boy from work?” Furrowing her eyebrows, Amy remembers the success of her previous lie, and decides the positive results from last time only indicate that it can help her further.

     “Yup! It’s going great,” she fibs, her voice artificially chipper.

     “Oh, thank god!” Amy can practically feel the anxiety slip out of her mother, and she wonders what could possibly have been making her so worried. “You know Tia and Tony’s wedding shower is this weekend, and they realized they’d put you down for a plus one, without, you know, actually _checking_ to see if you had a plus one to bring, but you sounded so happy before, I just knew it would work!” Camilla Santiago laughs, and a small pit begins to form in Amy’s stomach. “We’re just so excited to meet him! And I know you mentioned that he coordinates the work schedules, so I’m sure you’ll both have no problem getting the night off.” The pit in Amy’s stomach is now approximately the size of a large, gnarled rock.

     “That’s great, mom! Can’t wait.” Amy hangs up the phone before burying her head in her hands, groaning at the hole she’d dug for herself. _Crap._

 

* * *

 

     On Tuesday morning, Jake Peralta strolls into Brooklyn’s 99th precinct 17 minutes after 9AM, hair slightly mussed and wearing a blue and green flannel with a barbecue sauce stain on the sleeve.

     “You’re late,” Amy says flatly, barely glancing up from her computer as he approaches their desk. Jake frowns, plopping down in his chair before responding.

     “Am I late? Or was I just early enough to catch the one-eyed homeless man playing the sax on the corner?” Amy rolls her eyes.

     “You’re the worst.”

     “Would the worst have brought you fresh coffee from Dante’s?” Jake grins as he places a steaming paper cup on her desk, and Amy’s eyes flick up from her screen for the first time that morning. Taking a sip, she savors the rush of caffeine from her favorite café, prepared exactly how she likes it (two sugars, one cream).

     “Okay, I guess you can be upgraded to second-worst,” Amy concedes, glancing over at Hitchcock and Scully, who are currently attempting to drink expired milk using licorice as a straw. Jake responds with a signature _noice_ before booting up his computer and yelling to Charles for updates on the murder case they’ve been working. As she takes another sip of her latte, Amy suddenly freezes, remembering something she’d said at that ill-fated family dinner. _He knows my coffee order_. Her eyes flick up to examine her partner, lips pressed into a thin line as she considers her options. Jake is a mess, sure, but can clean up okay in a suit, based on how he looked at Thanksgiving. He was a cop, they’d met at work, and he knew her well – all three things she’d told her family. She shook her head, trying to rattle the crazy suggestion that had somehow taken root in her brain. This was _Jake_ she was talking about – he was impulsive, immature, and completely ridiculous, not to mention he grated on every last one of her nerves. But she also had less than a week until the wedding shower, and based on the current state of her love life, nothing was going to change by the time Saturday rolled around.

     “Peralta,” Amy kept her voice as neutral as possible. “Can I talk to you in the break room?” _Crap_ , she thinks to herself, _I should’ve made a binder for this._

     A minute later, the pair of detectives are sitting on the worn couch, Amy’s eyes flitting around the room in order to avoid eye contact.

     “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Jake asks, his usual dopey smile on his face. “Was it to hear more of my impressions? Because I just rewatched _The Godfather_ and I’ve gotta say, I really think my Don Corleone has improved.” Amy’s resolve almost breaks right there, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

     “How would you like to have all your paperwork done for you for the next month?” Jake’s eyes widen.

     “Hm…you make me an offer I can’t refuse.” He crinkles his face and holds up his hand as he attempts to mimic the aforementioned Italian movie character, then furrows his eyebrows. “Wait, no, that’s not it, it’s _I’ll_ make him an offer he can’t refuse, but oh well, works in context.” _I can’t do this_ , Amy thinks to herself. _It’s not worth it, I’ll find another way._ She’s about to get up when Jake speaks again, more earnestly this time. “Hold on, why would you do all my paperwork for me?” Tentatively, Amy looks up from her tightly clasped hands to meet his eyes, which are filled with confused curiosity.

     “No reason,” she squeaks, wondering how best to deliver this news in order to get her rival to agree to the impossible. “Just that…well…I sort of accidentally told my whole family I have a boyfriend and now they’re expecting me to bring him to a wedding shower and I can’t say no or it’ll be totally humiliating and I said he was a cop and I’m pretty much desperate and _you brought me coffee_.” She lets the words out in one breath, so quickly they’re nearly unintelligible. Jake’s eyes widen so comically that Amy thinks they might pop out of his head, and her chest tightens in terror as she sees unbridled glee surface behind his dark brown irises.

     “Amy Santiago,” Jake says incredulously, smugly savoring every syllable. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

     “ _Fake_ boyfriend,” Amy corrects, attempting to remain stony-faced while her heart races.

     “Oh, this is gonna be _so_ good,” Jake claps his hands together in delight, already scheming up various ways to torture his partner. “I can be David Costello, world-renowned detective. I became a cop after my mom was brutally murdered by a gang of criminals known only by their purple tattoos. I’ve spent my whole life in pursuit of a man with a purple triangle on his left wrist, who-”

     “Actually,” Amy interrupts him before he continues, knowing far too well how over-excited Jake can get about his undercover personas. “I was thinking we could just go as ourselves. Y’know, Amy Santiago and Jake Peralta? Just to keep the lying to a minimum.” Amy nervously waits for his response, and she watches as an emotion she can’t quite read flickers across his face.

     “Please, like it’d be believable that _we’d_ be dating each other? As if,” Jake scoffs but it doesn’t quite ring true, and Amy notices but chooses not to comment on it.

     “So? Will you do it?” Jake pretends to stroke an imaginary beard on his chin.

     “Not so fast, young grasshopper. If you’re coming to me, you must be _really_ desperate. A month’s worth of paperwork? That’s not even a punishment, you love paperwork.” Amy curses at him internally for knowing her so well. “How about instead of that, you come as _my_ plus-one to my cousin’s bar mitzvah next month?” Amy’s jaw drops in shock at the turn of events, and he smiles goofily at her. “What? Just because I was tragically abandoned by my dad, doesn’t mean I don’t have family functions too. I don’t want to be the only one alone around a bunch of 13-year-olds – tweens are vicious.” He pretends to shudder at the thought. Amy isn’t sure she can formulate words at the moment, so before she has too long to think about it, she nods her head in agreement. Jake’s answering grin sends Amy’s stomach into knots. “Aw, hellz yeah! Spit shake to mark the agreement.” Jake spits into his hand and holds it out to her, snapping her out of her stupor.

     “Absolutely not. And if you try anything that disgusting at the wedding shower, I swear I will make that bar mitzvah the most miserable night of your life.”

     “Ha, joke’s on you! Can’t beat the night my dad left!” Jake retracts his hand in order to shoot finger guns at her, and she closes her eyes before inhaling deeply to stay calm. Two nights, just a few hours each. She would get through this, idiot partner in tow, somehow.

 

* * *

 

            The next morning, Amy puts a giant blue binder onto Jake’s desk. He looks up at her incredulously, already formulating a complaint, and she smiles triumphantly.

            “If we’re going to pull this off, we need to study up,” she says seriously, eyes dreamy at the thought of memorizing flashcards. “We’re going to have to learn about each other’s families, plus craft a believable backstory.” Jake groans and petulantly stomps his foot.

            “Dammit, Santiago! I should’ve known you’d take all the fun out of this.”

            “We’re being forced to spend extra time with each other outside of work. There was no fun to begin with.”

            “There was no fun to begin with, title of your sex tape!” Jake crows triumphantly and Amy ignores him.

            “We start at lunch today.” She immediately brightens as she opens the binder, pointing out her meticulous organization. “There are sections in here for each of my brothers and their families, plus spots for aunts, uncles, and oh! Can’t forget about recently deceased second cousins.” Amy furiously scribbles a note to herself before explaining the color code system to a flabbergasted Jake. “Get reading!” Amy blanches, suddenly panicky. “But not during work hours! This is all, of course, strictly professional.” She struggles to maintain a serious expression, and Jake tries not to laugh.

            “Yes, ma’am!” He salutes her dutifully before opening up the first page of the binder and beginning to read. “Really, Amy? I need to know your cousin’s toothpaste preferences?”

            “Dental hygiene is very important to the Santiagos, Jake,” she responds, then gets to work on catching a drug dealer while she tries not to study her partner’s facial expressions as he gains access to the innermost details of her familial life.

            A few hours later, the pair are sitting across a table in the break room, reviewing information together. “So this is Tomas,” Amy says, pointing to a picture of a smiling man in a red shirt. “And this is my oldest brother -”

            “Luis, right?” Jake interrupts and Amy looks at him in surprise.

            “Yes, actually. But we haven’t gone over him yet, how’d you know?”

            “Contrary to what you may believe, Santiago, I do actually listen occasionally when you speak.” Jake continues flipping through the binder while Amy processes this new information, an unexpected tingle running through her chest. Amy steadfastly ignores it and continues teaching Jake, going over names and faces until Gina comments dryly that they’re getting even less work done than she is today, and that’s saying something. Amy flushes bright pink and grabs the binder as she scurries back to her desk, the thought of any loss of productivity nearly making her sick. Jake strolls over much more slowly, making a face as he points to Amy behind her back. Gina merely raises her eyebrows at him in response before shaking her head and returning to her game of Kwazy Kupcakes.

            Jake and Amy spend all of their free time the rest of the week going over the binder, with Jake picking up information a lot faster than Amy expected. There are a lot of unexpected things he already knows, like how her dad used to be a detective or how Tony bought her very first set of gel pens, and it’s vaguely unsettling how comfortable it feels to hear him rattling off these facts. Boyle nearly has a heart attack when he finds out what they’re up to, and Amy avoids him as much as possible so as not to hear him discuss their “love pact” every time he sees her. By Friday, Jake can name every last one of the Santiago cousins, and when she starts to head toward the break room at 5PM for their nightly study session, he grabs her arm gently, a kind glint in his eye.

            “Ames, we’ve worked late every night this week. We’re both exhausted. Why don’t we head back to my apartment, order food from that Polish place you like so much, and finish out our studying somewhere a little more comfortable than the room where Hitchcock and Scully spill their lunches?” Glancing at the break room, Amy softens. He’s right – she _is_ exhausted, and small wisps of hair are falling out of her normally immaculate bun as if to prove it.

            “Fine,” she responds, trying to ignore the pang she feels when his hand releases her and she can no longer feel the warmth of his touch. “But we’re going to my apartment, not yours. It smells like something died in there.” She crinkles her nose as she remembers the time she went over to work on a case together, how he’d had to clear a patch of dirty clothes from the couch in order for there to be room to sit.

            “Oh yeah, that’s probably the moldy gummy bears. Lost a bag of them a while ago, not sure where they disappeared to.” Jake smiles as Amy rolls her eyes, and an hour later they’re sitting on Amy’s couch, munching on pierogis as Jake animatedly tells the story of his takedown of a rogue bank robber who turned out to be an old woman. The binder has been tossed aside in favor of food, and Amy has changed into sweats and an old gray NYPD T-shirt. She laughs as he reaches the end of his tale and she can’t help but notice how easy this all feels, him sitting on her couch and telling her about his day while they eat takeout and watch bad reruns of Law and Order. It’s almost enough to make her forget about why they’re here, but when a character onscreen mentions the word wedding her whole body goes tense and nerves course through her body. It must be clear on her face because Jake puts his arms on both her shoulders, steadying her until she makes eye contact.

            “Hey,” he says softly. “It’s going to be fine. I’m the world’s greatest detective, remember? I know that whole binder backwards and forwards. The Santiagos won’t know what hit them.” He smiles encouragingly as he gives her shoulders a small squeeze, and Amy wonders where this Jake came from and what he did with the sarcastic, immature Jake she’s known up until now. Her breath catches in her throat as she takes in the kindness in his eyes, and she gives a small nod before he releases her shoulders and stretches, immediately returning to his usual demeanor. “Well, now that I’ve proved I’m the best boyfriend ever, I should probably get going.” He stands up and pops a final bite of pierogi into his mouth, and Amy cringes as he wipes the residual grease on his jeans. “Have to get my beauty sleep if I want to look pretty for tomorrow.” He bats his eyelashes at her and Amy snorts in response, shoving him lightly towards the front door.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow. At -”

            “Six o’clock sharp, I know, I know! Goodnight, Ames.”

            “Goodnight, Jake.” The door slams shut behind him, and Amy is suddenly hyperaware of how empty the apartment feels. Shuffling into the kitchen, she puts the leftover Polish food in the fridge and clicks off the TV, leaving her in a silence that feels deafening. As she climbs into bed, she struggles not to think about the coworker who just left her presence, or about how the expected tingling of her stomach has shifted from nerves to something else entirely - excitement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2 has already been written and will be posted soon! much like amy i have an unhealthy craving for approval so please let me know what you thought :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome back for part 2! hope you enjoy our favorite cops attending a wedding shower :)

            At 6:01, Amy hears a rhythmic knock at her door, one that does not let up until she runs from her bedroom to the entryway of her apartment.

            “You’re late,” she says matter-of-factly as she swings the door open, echoing their daily interactions at the precinct.

            “By normal Peralta standards, I’d actually say this is early,” Jake walks in and plops himself down on the couch. “And besides, you left us an hour to get someplace 15 minutes away.”

            “You can never be too careful when it comes to punctuality,” Amy responds, and as she walks into the living room she has the chance to look him over. He’s wearing a lavender shirt and purple tie, his black jacket well-fitted to his body. His normally messy hair has been neatly combed, and he smells faintly of the pine aftershave he’s often bragged about using to get girls. Shyly, she meets his eyes, and is unprepared for the wonder she sees reflected in them. She isn’t sure what warrants his reaction (it’s not like this is the first time he’s seen her in a dress), but the curve-hugging plum dress is definitely a far-cry from the pantsuits she usually wears, and her red lipstick and perfectly curled hair probably aren’t helping. Not like it matters, anyway – this is all fake, of course, and soon they’ll go back to being bickering coworkers.

            “Amy, you don’t look like a grandma! Congrats on aging down approximately 65 years.” Jake smirks at her and things are shifted back to normal, and Amy nearly breathes a sigh of relief at the return to familiar territory.

            “And you don’t look like you just rolled out of a dirty hamper.” It’s the closest they’ve ever come to complimenting each other, and she wonders how they’re possibly going to pull this off. “You ready to go?”

            “I was born ready,” Jake’s eyes narrow and his voice drops into a low tone as he mimics an action hero, and Amy takes his joking as an affirmative answer. After 15 minutes of driving and 30 minutes of listening to Jake sing along to Taylor Swift at a deafening volume while they wait in the car, it’s time to go inside. Amy fidgets nervously as she turns off the music, and when she shifts over to open the door Jake scrambles out of his seat and sprints around to her side of the car, opening the door for her. “Perfect boyfriend, remember?” He extends an arm out to her and Amy takes it tentatively, and they walk into the shower hand in hand.

            The event is being held in an upscale restaurant on the water, and the melodic background music and sparkling twinkle lights are a lot different than the grungy alleyways and sketchy buildings Jake and Amy usually find themselves in together. Delicate framed pictures of Tony and Tia hang from wire trees that serve as the centerpieces for each table, and the entire back wall of the venue is glass overlooking the Hudson River. The guests of honor spot them walking in and quickly run over.

            “Amy!” Tia exclaims, embracing her soon-to-be sister-in-law in a hug before turning to Jake. “And you must be Amy’s mystery man!” Jake smiles and introduces himself, and Tony eyes him appraisingly. “We’re so excited to finally meet you. Amy’s been very tight-lipped,” Tia shoots Amy an accusatory glare while Amy’s cheeks redden.

            “Oh well, you know Amy,” Jake responds good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around his partner’s waist. Amy freezes at the physical contact before remembering that he’s supposed to do things like this, then relaxes into his touch, leaning into his side. “She was probably worried that as soon as she started talking, she’d say too much. You know how she overshares when she’s nervous.” A genuine laugh escapes her brother’s lips.

            “You were right, Amy, he really _does_ know you.” A jolt of confused shock runs through her at the words, and she opens her mouth to protest before realizing it’s supposed to be true. Untrusting of her own ability to speak, Amy simply nods in response, and looks up at Jake to see him looking down at her with startlingly real-seeming adoration in his eyes. “Please help yourselves to some food,” Tony gestures at the buffet set up across the room.

            “Enjoy the shower!” Tia chirps before tugging her fiancé’s hand, whisking him away to greet more guests.

            “I’d say that went pretty well,” Jake sounds pleased with himself as soon as they’re out of earshot. Amy looks pointedly down at his arm, which is still wrapped around her waist, with raised eyebrows. Jake leans in close until his nose is brushing her hair, then whispers, “Undercover 101, you can’t break character - you never know who’s watching.” The feel of his hot breath tickling her ear sends shivers down Amy’s spine, and she’s frustrated by how much his touch is affecting her. _Two can play at this game_ , she decides. If Jake Peralta was going to be the best boyfriend ever, then she was going to show him Amy Santiago, girlfriend extraordinaire. Jake suddenly spots a waiter carrying around a tray of pigs in a blanket, and with an exclamation of “piggies!” quickly drops his arm in order to scurry over. Amy rolls her eyes at his characteristic display and follows after him. He’s asking the waiter if they have ketchup when her cousin Marco approaches.

            “Marco, hey!” Amy puts on her brightest smile. “This is my boyfriend, Jake. Jake, this is my cousin Marco.” Amy rests her hands on Jake’s chest as she introduces him, and she feels him stiffen beneath her at the contact.

            “Nice to meet you.” Marco shakes Jake’s hand. “Amy, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!”

            “Yup, I am! We met at work and things just fell into place. Isn’t that right, babe?” Amy reaches up to place a quick kiss on his cheek and watches with smug pleasure as he struggles to contain his reaction.

            “Yeah, _babe_ , we were just meant to be,” Jake’s voice is strained and Amy worries that maybe she’s gone too far, but then Jake seems to recenter, his voice smooth as butter when he speaks again.

            “Marco, did you catch the soccer game last night?” Marco’s face lights up and Amy realizes with shock that Jake is using the binder to his advantage; Marco coaches high school soccer and is a huge sports fan. She smiles forcefully by Jake’s side as the two men discuss NYC FC until eventually Marco leaves. Jake turns to her with his eyebrows raised, looking confused, amused, and, if Amy didn’t know any better, a little awestruck.

            “Sorry about that,” Amy’s tone is apologetic. “I may have gone a little overboard.”

            “No no no, that was great,” Jake responds, trying to remain nonchalant. He holds it in for all of one second, before changing his mind and teasing her gently. “The cheek kiss was a little much. Very wet.” Insults from Jake, Amy knows how to handle.

            “Well, I don’t know what to tell you – your girlfriend’s sloppy.” Amy shrugs her shoulders as she challenges him coolly, a glint in her eye, and he’s about to retort when they’re approached by Camilla and Victor Santiago. “Mom, Dad, hi!” Her parents greet her, and she can feel her stomach flop nervously as they study the man beside her. “This is Jake.” Her mom’s eyebrows furrow and she thinks deeply for a moment.

            “Jake…isn’t that the name of the partner you always used to complain about? The one who you said was immature and doesn’t know how to manage his finances?”

            “ _Whaaat?_ ” Amy scrunches up her forehead and extends the word out for as long as possible in mock coolness, her voice high-pitched, and all three of the others present look at her with raised eyebrows. “Um…” she glances at Jake, and his face is filled with curiosity. “We used to annoy each other constantly. And then eventually, the teasing became friendly,” she says tentatively. “One day, we realized we’d rather drive each other crazy than anyone else.” Jake is looking at her with an unreadable expression, and her mom tries to recover the situation as she realizes this is the same Jake she just insulted.

            “Well, that’s lovely! How long have you two been seeing each other, exactly?” Amy’s stomach drops as she realizes that, in all her haste spent teaching Jake about her family, they’d forgotten to discuss the most important aspect of this entire plan – their relationship history.

            “A few weeks,” Amy answers at the same time that Jake says “a couple months,” and she forces a laugh out through gritted teeth as she looks at him with panic in her eyes.

            “Sorry, we’ve been _seeing_ each other for a few weeks,” Jake covers, “but we’ve known each other for so long, it feels like it’s been months.” Amy nods vigorously in agreement, and her parents look a little concerned but seem to buy it.

            “That must have been funny, getting together after working together.” Victor states, and there’s an awkward silence until Camilla speaks.

            “I think what he _means_ to say is that he’s wondering how you managed to switch the vibe from professional to romantic. What did you do on your first date, for instance?” Jake and Amy glance at each other nervously, and she can practically see the gears whirring in his head.

            “I took her to this little Italian place in Queens,” Jake smiles at her and she’s suddenly filled with curiosity about what he’ll say. “They make all the pasta fresh, and their spaghetti Bolognese is the toitest around.” Amy immediately knows the restaurant he’s referring to; Jake mentions their meatballs on a daily basis and is constantly pestering her to go with him. “So we ate dinner, and then when we were done we went to the _actual_ reason I picked the place – this little family-owned stationary store next door. They’ve got all these different kinds of paper and you even get to design your own monogram that they stamp on all the pages for you.” Amy struggles to control her facial expression as her mind races, her heart fluttering. There are approximately three people she’s ever been able to convince to come to a stationary store with her (two of them are members of her immediate family; the other was a sixth-grade teacher who had allowed Amy to help her shop for classroom supplies before cutting the trip short after Amy spent over an hour trying to figure out which kind of hole punchers were the best). Jake Peralta, with his constant jabs at her organizational quirks, was not someone she ever thought would be added to that list.

            “How nice! Amy, did you make one?”

            “Mm-hmm,” Amy takes Jake’s hand in her own and squeezes lightly. “Lavender background, monogram in Garamond.” Amy’s dad nods in approval at her font choice, and for a brief moment Amy lets herself revel in the glow of gaining the support of her role model.

            “Grandma!” One of Amy’s nephews sprints over and tugs on Camilla’s hand, and the older woman smiles apologetically.

            “Looks like we’re needed elsewhere! It was so nice meeting you, Jake. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you soon!”

            “Yes, maybe next time you can tell us how you plan to get out of that crushing debt of yours.” Victor Santiago’s voice is flat and Jake squeezes Amy’s hand, hard. _Oops._

            “Ha-ha, good one, Mr. Santiago!” Jake’s voice is falsely chipper, and the man in question nods curtly in response before following his wife and grandson. As soon as they’re out of earshot Amy relaxes, releasing Jake’s hand as relief floods her body.

            “Thank god that’s over.” Amy looks up at him when he doesn’t immediately respond, and becomes defensive at the look on his face. “What?”

            “Oh, nothing. I just see where you get it now,” Jake quirks an eyebrow at her and she rolls her eyes.

            “Oh, please.”

            “Hey, it’s cool – you and your dad share the same favorite font _and_ sense of style. All me and my dad have in common is sleeping with ladies who aren’t my mom.” She doesn’t even bother coming up with a retort, just tells him to come on and walks toward the buffet line, which she’s noticed is short for the first time all night.

            The rest of the shower passes by in a blur as Jake and Amy settle into a groove, mingling with various relatives and making small talk that Jake manages to keep appropriate, for the most part. Physical contact – his arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest, their hands entwined – starts to feel so natural she barely notices it, and often their conversations don’t even require any pretend, the two easily bouncing off each other as they animatedly tell stories about cases they’ve worked together or anecdotes about their coworkers and friends. After eating dinner (which included Jake asking no less than 18 times for more pigs in a blanket after wrinkling his nose at food he deemed “only edible if your name is Jameson and you’ve been golfing at the country club every Sunday for the last 50 years”) and playing a guessing game about who knew the bride and groom best, they begin to say their goodbyes. When they make their way to the couple of the hour, Tia smiles warmly.

            “Thanks so much for coming!” She gives Amy a hug, then frowns. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get much time to spend with you; tonight was crazy.” Amy nods in understanding and reassures her not to worry about it, but Tony interjects.

            “We’d love to grab dinner with you sometime this week, if you’re free.” Amy’s stomach plummets, and she’s about to give them an excuse when Jake speaks instead.

            “We’d love to.” Amy looks at him questioningly, wondering if all the hot dogs have affected his sanity. Before he can say any more, she quickly adds on to his words.

            “But unfortunately, we can’t,” she frowns in mock sadness.  “Big case this week, the whole precinct’s working late every night.”

            “Yup, giant case. 30 people murdered, super important crime families involved, the whole shebang.” Jake catches on and improvises as usual, but Amy can still hear the disappointment in his voice. It sounds almost too real, and she reminds herself that they’re both just pretending; in a few minutes this will all be over and Jake will never see her family again.

            “Oh no! Is everything okay?” Tia sounds alarmed and Amy realizes they may have gone a little overboard on the cop stuff.

            “Oh yeah, totally, don’t worry about it.” Amy lets out a nervous laugh, and discreetly elbows Jake until he laughs too.

            “Well, we’ll see you at the wedding, then! Amy, obviously, and Jake, hopefully we’ll see you there too.”

            “Hope so!” Jake replies, looking warily at Amy, and she’s already dreading all the questions she’ll have to field about their breakup when he’s not with her at the wedding. When they step outside into the cool night air, Amy breathes a sigh of relief. She’s felt off-kilter all night, and when Jake releases her hand the ground returns to feeling steady under her feet. The loss of contact also causes a small pang in her chest, and Amy’s not sure if it’s loneliness or cold or something else entirely. They sit down in the car, and the air hangs thick and heavy between them as they each stare straight-ahead, processing their thoughts.

            “Hey Amy,” Jake says softly, “you know what all my girlfriends love?” Amy is not sure her nerves can take much more of boyfriend-Jake, and she’s about to respond with a biting retort when a grin spreads across his face. “T-SWIZZLE!” he yells and cranks the volume up as far it will go until Amy’s ears are blaring. She punches him in the shoulder as he croons along to “Love Story” and pulls out of the parking lot, and he doesn’t let her turn down the music until he’s finished all four verses and they’re well on their way home, the city zipping by beside them. “You should be honored, FYI,” Jake says when it ends. “It’s not every day you get to be one of the girls in my car, and you’ve gotten the full Peralta treatment not just once, but twice.” Amy thinks back to the disastrous bet and the night she’d had to spend with him as a result, terrible blue dress and cargo shorts included.

            “If anyone’s lucky here, it’s you,” she says coolly, looking out the window. “The boyfriends of Amy Santiago are a very select club.”

            “Select? That’s a nice way of saying I’m the only member. It’s okay, Ames, you’ll have your first kiss one day!”

            “Please tell me we’re almost there; I think I’ve hit my max on concentrated Jake time and this night needs to end.”

            “This night needs to end, title of your sex tape!” Amy sighs, exasperated but somehow still fond of the man-child beside her. A few minutes later, they’re pulling up to her apartment, and Amy turns towards Jake as he puts the car in park.

            “Thank you,” she tells him, and she means it. “I know I can be…a lot, but I really appreciate you doing this.”

            “No problemo, Santiago.” Jake grins. “Can’t wait to do it all again in a few weeks at the bar mitzvah!” Amy groans, but her heart does a little flip at the thought.

            “Here’s to forgetting this ever happened and never speaking of it ever again?” Amy sticks out her hand.

            “Forgetting _what_ happened? What are you doing in my car? Who even are you?” Jake gasps in mock horror and Amy smiles. They shake firmly before Amy gets out of the car and disappears inside. Just before she closes the door, she turns back to give him a small wave, and the tenderness and familiarity in his eyes as he half-smiles in response causes Amy to suck in a breath. That night, she falls asleep thinking of warm hands and dumb jokes and a pair of brown eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm forcing myself to stay one chapter ahead of whatever's posted, so part 3 has been written and will be put up as soon as I finish chapter 4! i have so many feelings about these two so please hmu in the comments and lmk what you thought so we can freak out together


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a bar mitzvah! Sorry this update took a little longer, I had two midterms this week so things were a little crazy. Also, disclaimer: I'm Jewish and have been to literally dozens of bar and bat mitzvahs, so I'm v sorry if any of these references are too specific or if I'm the only one who finds them funny lol. Enjoy!

            After the wedding shower, Charles peppers Jake and Amy incessantly with questions, obsessive in his conviction that the two of them are destined to fall in love. They consistently reassure him that there are no juicy details to share and eventually he gives up, bothering them less and less until he’s reduced to the occasional comment about the dream wedding he’s planned for them. Amy is initially worried about potential awkwardness but her fears quickly prove to be unfounded as she and Jake return to their usual levels of competition, the only change a slightly friendlier vein running underneath. She’s nearly forgotten their deal entirely until one Friday evening Jake throws several paperclips at her from across his desk, yelling “bullseye!” when he hits her squarely in the nose.

            “What do you want, Peralta?” She’s about to finish her work for the day and wants nothing more than to go home and collapse on her couch with a crossword puzzle, so whatever he’s decided to annoy her with better be important.

            “Are you ready for tomorrow?” Amy is confused and then her eyes widen as realization dawns on her while she flips frantically through her planner. There it is, marked clearly for March 16: “Peralta bar mitzvah” written in her neat handwriting.

            “Oh my gosh, Jake, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot,” Jake’s face falls, and she watches as he tries to play off his disappointment.

            “Cool cool cool cool, if you’re not free anymore it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll figure something -”

            “Oh no, I’m still free!” Amy interrupts. “A deal’s a deal. It’s just that we didn’t have any time to prep! I don’t know anything about your family, or this event…I don’t even have a binder!” Amy’s voice is frantic and amused relief washes over Jake.

            “Oh, that’s all? Don’t worry about it.” Amy stares at him in response, clearly still alarmed. “Seriously, Amy, it’s fine. Just be yourself.”

            “Be myself?” Amy scoffs, looking insulted. “What kind of terrible advice is that?! At least give me some conversation topics. Things to talk about, things to avoid…” Amy looks at Jake expectantly, and he sighs as he realizes there’s no way he can get out of this one.

            “Okay, let’s see, things my mom likes…her favorite drink is red wine over ice, because that’s how Diane Keaton likes it. Ooh, she’ll talk to you forever about how Jimmy Carter was underrated, how beautiful some front doors are, and whatever it is that Jane Seymour is up to these days.” Amy scribbles furiously as she takes notes on his words.

            “Perfect, this is great, keep it coming.”

            “Alright, hm, topics to avoid: how my dad left us and ruined our lives, how my dad got remarried twice and ruined our lives, how my dad moved to Canada and ruined our lives -”

            “You know what? I’m just going to steer clear of your dad entirely.” Amy says the obvious words gently, and Jake purses his lips and nods his head.

            “ _Smort._ You’re gonna be fine, alright? She’s totally gonna love you,” Jake’s sincerity would normally startle Amy but she’s not paying attention, and he leans around to see what she’s looking at on her computer screen. “Are those my mom’s dental records?” Jake frowns and Amy blushes.

            “I’m being thorough! This is all information that would have gone into my binder,” she says defensively. Amy attempts to pry more details from him and he gives her the bare minimum, insisting that she doesn’t need to prepare. Eventually she gives up, deciding she can use the little she has to do more research on her own tonight.

            24 hours later Jake is honking his horn to the beat of the Funky Cold Medina, and Amy practically sprints down the stairs of her apartment building as she prays that none of her neighbors peek their heads out to complain about the obnoxious noise.

            “How did you get here so fast?” Amy’s voice is almost accusatory as she slides into the passenger seat, pulling down the mirror to apply lipstick. They’d been called into work unexpectedly this morning, and after a masterful takedown of a major crime ring Amy had been left with only a few minutes to get home, rinse the sweat off her body, and make herself at least somewhat presentable. As she’d sprinted out of work, Jake had merely given her a casual wave before returning to his attempts to convince Rosa to watch Diehard 3 with him.

            “I have my ways,” Jake smirks at her and Amy looks him up and down, unimpressed.

            “You came here straight from the precinct, didn’t you?”

            “Yup. Just borrowed some of Charles’s cologne to cover up the smell of that dumpster we dove through. Do I smell like Canyon Stank to you?” Amy sniffs and recoils as she recognizes Boyle’s signature scent.

            “Unfortunately, yes. Do I even want to know where your suit came from?”

            “No, you definitely don’t.” He pauses before immediately continuing, unable to resist. “Also Charles. Said he’s had it sitting in the car for the last three years just in case we ever needed to go undercover at an opera.”

            “Of course he has,” Amy is unsurprised at her Jake-obsessed coworker’s quirks. “So whose bar mitzvah exactly are we going to?”

            “My cousin David. Well, technically my second cousin. Maybe once-removed? I’m not really sure how it works. But he’s my mom’s cousin’s son.” Jake seems proud of himself for remembering the structure of his family tree.

            “Great, okay, so we have the service first and then the party after?” Jake nods in response.

            “Y’know, I got drunk for the first time ever at a bat mitzvah. It was Erica Goldstein’s, her parents had an open bar, and we stole a bottle of vodka while the bartender wasn’t looking.” Amy raises an eyebrow at him doubtfully. “Okay, fine, it was wine, not vodka, and it was given to us for ‘religious ceremonial purposes,’ but still, the three sips I had were _lit_.”

            “I’m sure they were,” Amy agrees with him, her lips pursed in amusement, and before long they’re pulling into the parking lot of Temple Sinai of Brooklyn. As they’re about to get out of the car, Jake’s eyes suddenly go wide with panic as he stares at her spaghetti strap floral dress. Amy is insulted and mildly concerned, and looks at him with confusion.

            “Shoot, Amy, please tell me you brought a sweater or something. It’s my bad, I should’ve told you, and not that your dress isn’t _great_ because it totally is, you’re just kind of supposed to have your shoulders covered in there.” He tilts his head towards the synagogue and Amy’s eyes widen. She’d known to bring a sweater, of course, her sensibility had told her as much, but in her rush to get ready she had run out the door without one.

            “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

            “Don’t worry about it, easy fix.” Jake shrugs his suit jacket off his shoulders and offers it to Amy, and she crinkles her nose before sliding it on. Though the scent of Boyle’s cologne lingers, underneath the jacket smells unmistakably of Jake, earthy with a faint tinge of gummy worms. As she’s breathing it in Jake opens the door for her, and this time the gesture doesn’t surprise her. They enter the building hand in hand and it feels like muscle memory, the way they interact physically as a (fake) couple. Guests are milling around and Jake’s mother makes a beeline towards Jake and Amy as soon as she sees them, her glasses falling slightly down her nose.

            “There’s my baby boy!” Karen Peralta wraps Jake in a hug before turning to the woman beside him and embracing her as well. “And you must be Amy. Let me tell you, I am so happy to finally meet! Jake’s been talking about you for months, just wouldn’t shut up about his pretty partner. When you finally got together, I wasn’t surprised at all.” A jolt shoots through Amy at the words and she glances at Jake, where she swears she sees a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

            “I like your brooch,” Amy compliments Karen to distract from her swirling thoughts, and the older woman beams.

            “Thank you! You’ll never guess who I bought it from – Jane Seymour.” Amy gasps in mock surprise.

            “No, really? I’m always wondering what she’s up to these days!”

            “Me too! She makes jewelry now, and it’s beautiful,” Karen delivers this information like a juicy piece of gossip, and Amy is about to respond when someone announces that it’s time to take their seats. Amy starts to walk forward when Jake tugs her arm, pulling her towards the back of the room.

            “Why are we sitting in the last row?” Amy frowns, craning her neck as she attempts to see over the tall bald man in front of her.

            “Oh, Santiago, you’re an amateur,” Jake stretches his arms before making himself comfortable in his seat, slouching low. “I spent six years of Hebrew school mastering the art of how to entertain myself during services. Step 1: sit in the very back. Step 2: bring a notebook and something to write with.” Amy stares at him in horror as he pulls out a notepad (stolen from work, if the NYPD logo on the back is any indicator) and a pen with a flourish.

            “No thank you, Jake. I came here to be a respectful guest and broaden my cultural horizons, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

            “Suit yourself,” Jake shrugs before getting to work on a doodle, and Amy folds her hands in her lap and directs her attention forward.

            An hour later, Amy is beginning to think that maybe there was some sense behind his actions. As they flip through the prayer book singing words Amy can neither read nor understand, Jake’s incessant requests to play Hangman become more and more tempting, and eventually she acquiesces, insisting that it’s only so that he’ll be quiet and stop disrupting the service. After she triumphantly completes the phrases “Dance-y Reagan,” “Cheddar the dog,” and “Jenny Gildenhorn,” (when questioned, Jake defensively claims that bar mitzvahs make him think of her), Amy takes the notepad and writes the letters M.A.S.H. at the top of the page. She’s acting like she’s approximately seven years old and she knows it, but Jake’s immaturity has rubbed off on her and they’re still sitting and standing whenever they’re supposed to so she decides it’s okay.

            “You get two good options and two bad options for each category,” Amy whispers, and begins filling in lines indicating who Jake will marry, how many kids he’ll have, and what kind of pet he’ll adopt, among other things her fourth-grade self would have found extremely important.

            “Ooh, my future wife! Who do I put down? Taylor Swift, Jenny Gildenhorn, you -” Amy stops writing to glance at him. “You as one of the bad options, obviously.” Jake speaks quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth, and Amy gives him a funny look but doesn’t respond. A few minutes later the results are in, and Jake will be spending his adult life as a used car salesman with a pet rat, living in a mansion and married to Amy. “Aw, look, we’re gonna have three kids,” Jake jokes, pointing to the circled numbers. Unbidden, an image of a rambunctious boy with dark curls flashes through Amy’s brain, and she immediately banishes it from her mind. “Not sure how I’ll manage to support you all on my used car salesman salary.”

            “Excuse me, who said you were the breadwinner of the family?” Amy retorts, pretending to be affronted. “I’m probably a world-class neurosurgeon. How else would we be affording the mansion?”

            “Very true, Santiago,” he agrees then turns to the next page so that they can determine Amy’s future as well. They continue to pass the time until the bald man in front of them turns around with a glare and tells them to be quiet. Amy turns bright red and immediately apologizes, while Jake stifles a snicker.

            “I think this is the first time I’ve ever been yelled at for not paying attention,” Amy whispers to him later, and Jake grins.

            “Thrilling, isn’t it?” As the service continues, to Amy’s surprise, Jake sings along to several of the prayers, the Hebrew words rolling off his tongue with ease. “Hey, don’t forget that I had one of these too,” he says by way of explanation, and Amy listens in quiet fascination to the slightly off-key lilt of his voice. When the service finally ends, the crowd filters into a reception hall for hors d’oeuvres, and Amy finds that most of his relatives are so chatty, she barely has to say a word in order for them to carry the conversation. When it’s nearly time to move into the party space, a woman Amy recognizes as the mother of the bar mitzvah boy spots Jake and weaves towards them through the crowd.

            “Jake! I have a favor to ask,” she runs her hand through her hair, looking frazzled. “David is in a bit of a mood, and is insisting that we set aside an area for his friends only. He said he’s worried about adults making the party too lame,” she shakes her head in frustration. “We tried to convince him not to, but he refused, and we just want to make today fun for him, so we told him that it was okay but that he had to pick one adult to supervise. And, well, he sort of picked you.” She looks at him in desperation, and Jake’s face lights up with glee while Amy looks on in disbelief. “Will you do it?”

            “I’d love to! Super cool cousin Jake to the rescue.” David’s mom looks visibly relieved, and then she turns towards Amy.

            “Are you any good with kids?”

            “Of course! I am _amazing_ with kids.” Amy says the words confidently, but a feeling of dread curls in her stomach.

            “Great, you can go too.” When David’s mom walks away, Amy turns to Jake with a panicked expression.

            “I am _terrible_ with kids. I haven’t listened to rap music in three years. I don’t know the lingo!” Jake stifles a laugh as Amy rattles off reasons she should not be entrusted with this responsibility.

            “It’s fine, Ames. David probably picked me because I’m his handsome, incredibly cool cousin who’s so hip he fits right in with all the teens. They’re automatically gonna love me and my super hot girlfriend.” Amy quirks an eyebrow at him, and he attempts to backpedal as he realizes what he just said. “Not that I think you’re super hot. Not at all. You’re hideous, haha! Wait, just kidding. You’re not, like, _ugly_ , obviously. You are…perfectly adequate. The picture of mediocrity.”

            “Being called mediocre, every girl’s dream,” Amy responds drily, but inside her heart is doing somersaults. She knows she’s attractive, sure, and has always been pretty sure her coworker thinks so too, based on the way he often looks at her, but hearing him say the words has planted a strange tingle in her stomach that she can’t get rid of. They venture into the party area and Amy veers straight towards the bar, insisting that she needs some liquid courage if she’s going to spend the evening with a group of 13-year-olds. Jake’s mom walks up beside them as Amy is about to order, so she strategically chooses a red wine over ice.

            “How funny, that’s what I was about to get!” Karen remarks and smiles at Amy.

            “Well, I always say, if it’s good enough for Diane Keaton, it’s good enough for me,” Amy does an internal victory dance at the look of elation on Karen’s face, and Jake gives her shoulder a soft squeeze. After a few minutes of chatting, he motions towards the sectioned off area near the dance floor, and Amy sucks in a deep breath (and sucks down a shot of tequila) before they head over. When they step behind the awkwardly placed set of bookshelves that are being used as a makeshift divider, they find around 25 twelve- and thirteen-year-olds gathered into various circles, all of whom look up at them when they enter. An awkward silence falls over the crowd as they stare at each other.

            “What’s up, party people?!” Amy speaks in a desperate attempt to diffuse the situation, and cringes at the judgmental looks she receives from a group of blondes in the corner.

            “It’s fine, guys, it’s just my cousin Jake,” David speaks dismissively from the middle of the room. “My mom said he has to be here, but you can just ignore him.”

            “Who’s the girl?” A redhead wearing far too much eyeliner crosses her arms as she sends Amy a withering stare, and Amy laughs nervously as she dies a little inside.

            “This is my girlfriend, Amy,” Jake slips an arm around her waist and she puts a hand on his chest, attempting to appear cool and collected. “We’re just gonna be hanging out with you guys tonight. So, y’know, feel free to go back to doing whatever it is you were doing.” The tweens stare at them for a second longer before turning back to each other, and Amy breathes a sigh of relief.

            “Wow, middle schoolers really haven’t improved,” Amy whispers to Jake as they sit down at a table. “No wonder my best friend was my world history teacher. In eighth grade they even gave me a key to the teacher’s lounge.” Amy says this fact proudly, and Jake shakes his head at her.

            “Hate to break it to you, Ames, but they definitely just felt bad for you.” Amy’s mouth opens, insulted.

            “No, they loved me! I stocked their fridge and cleaned up after them.”

            “Nevermind, it’s even more depressing than I thought.” She scowls at him. “It’s okay, we’ll make up for it right now.” Her eyes narrow at him in suspicion and he grins. “Amy Santiago, we’re going to prove to these thirteen-year-olds that you’re cool.” Before she has a chance to object, he’s beckoning to David, and the bar mitzvah boy is soon standing in front of them. “Hey Davey, why is everyone separated into different groups? Catch me up on all the drama.” David stares at him doubtfully.

            “Why do you care?”

            “I’m your cool older cousin! I’m trying to help you kick this party up a notch.” David sighs.

            “Dude, I only picked you because you’re kind of a dumbass. I thought you wouldn’t pay attention to anything we were doing so we could get away with anything we wanted.” The younger male walks away and Jake’s jaw drops in shock.

            “Well, that is not how I thought that was going to go.” He turns to Amy and is surprised to see a fiery glint in her eye.

            “He can’t talk to you like that! David,” she calls after him and the boy turns around, rolling his eyes as he walks back. “Listen up, buddy, and listen good – your parents paid a lot of money to get a good DJ and a great dance floor, and I hear music playing but you know what I don’t see?” David shakes his head, looking a little taken aback. “I don’t see anyone dancing. Y’know what else I don’t see?” He shakes his head again, and Amy can tell she has his attention. “Any of your friends having a good time. They are all standing around looking awkward and miserable, so shut up and let us help you host the best gosh-darn party of all-time, or so help me I will raid that candy bar and force feed you so many sweets they’ll have to roll you out of here.”

            “O-okay,” David stammers out a response, both terror and respect in his expression as he looks at Amy. “What did you have in mind?” Jake turns to Amy in awe, his mouth forming a perfect O-shape.

            “Does anyone have sunglasses?” Jake’s voice lowers as his lips press together in a smile. “Because this party is about to get hella lit.”

 

* * *

 

            An hour later, the teen area has been abandoned in favor of the dance floor. Jake is directly in the middle of the crowd, dancing like it’s 1993 and looking like an absolute idiot, but all the kids love it and Amy hasn’t been able to wipe the fond smile off her face as she watches him. She’s been milling near the edge of the dance floor after insisting to Jake that she has two left feet, despite several attempts to convince her to join him. As the opening beat to the next song plays, Jake turns to her widemouthed, his eyes glistening with excitement.

            “The Cha-Cha Slide, Amy!” She groans but doesn’t resist as he comes over and pulls her onto the dance floor, giving her a spin as he does. “Everyone can do the Cha-Cha Slide.” As the song begins, Jake’s energy is infectious, and Amy can’t help but absorb some of his enthusiasm. Together they slide, jump, and take it back now y’all, and Amy manages to get through the full routine with relatively few stumbles and a whole lot of laughter. At the close of the music, a tall blonde girl taps Amy furtively on the shoulder.

            “Hey,” she whispers. “A few of us are going back to the teen area to play a game, and we want you to come with.” She nods her head slightly towards the bookshelves. “You can bring Jake, but don’t tell anyone else. And wait a minute before following me!” The girl turns around and walks away, and a thrill runs through Amy at what is possibly the highest form of social acceptance she’s ever achieved.

            “Jake,” Amy murmurs, then indicates the receding form of the girl with her eyes. Jake quickly catches on, and he turns to the other teens dancing around them.

            “Hey guys, we’ll be right back.” Jake grabs Amy’s hand as several kids ooh and make kissing noises at them, and Amy is too happy to even care about the insinuations of their teasing. After making sure no one is watching, the pair slip behind the bookshelf-wall and find several people sitting in a circle.

            “Oh good, you’re here,” the tall blonde girl remarks, and a few individuals scoot over to make room for the couple to join. Amy is about to sit next to Jake when a voice pipes up across the circle.

            “Amy, come sit with me.” It’s the judgmental redheaded girl from earlier, and she pats the seat beside her and introduces herself as Genevieve. Amy shrugs at Jake before crossing over and lowering herself to the ground.

            “Okay everyone, we’re playing truth or dare.” The blonde speaks again, sounding very serious, and a few nervous giggles are heard in response. Jake and Amy make eye contact, their eyes shining with amusement, and Amy prays silently that this doesn’t get weirdly inappropriate and require them to intervene. The game begins pretty innocuously, with a wiry Asian boy being dared to steal a flower from a centerpiece without anyone noticing. When a tiny girl is teased after confessing that she has peed in a pool before, a lanky brunette boy defends her, and Genevieve leans up to whisper in Amy’s ear.

            “That’s Sam.” Amy can hear the obvious affection in the girl’s voice, and the corners of her lips tilt up knowingly. “I have a crush on him.”

            “Have you told him how you feel?” Amy whispers back to her, her words gentle, and the younger girl looks at her like she’s crazy.

            “Of course not! He barely even knows I exist.” Amy glances up and catches the boy in question looking at them, his eyes quickly flicking away as soon as she catches him staring.

            “I really doubt that’s true.” Suddenly emboldened, Amy sits up straighter and addresses the group. “I’ll go next,” she asserts, and the redhead looks at her in alarm. “Trust me,” she whispers out of the corner of her mouth, then speaks louder. “Sam, truth or dare?”

            “Truth,” he hesitates as he says the word, and Amy smiles.

            “What’s your favorite thing about Genevieve?”

            “Um....” The tips of his ears turn pink, and Amy is scared that she misread the situation until he continues. “I think how smart she is. She always gets the top score on tests in math class. And, uh, I think her freckles are really pretty.” He smiles bashfully at Genevieve, and she manages to squeak out a thank you. Amy can see the excitement and awe in her expression, and a warmth settles in Amy’s stomach and spreads throughout her body at the young love she may have just helped facilitate.

            “Hey, that’s not fair,” a blonde boy with his hair gelled up in front of his face calls out. “Amy asked a question, but she didn’t have to answer one.” Amy opens her mouth to protest before realizing it’s true, and quickly slams it shut. “Sarah, it was technically your turn. You should ask Amy to get things back on track.” A mousy blonde nods her head.

            “Amy, truth or dare?”

            “Truth,” Amy picks, sure that these kids can’t possibly throw anything too difficult her way.

            “How did you get Jake to fall in love with you?” Curiosity as well as a deep vulnerability are visible in the young teen’s eyes, and Amy remembers the desperate desire for belonging she’d felt at that age, the intense yearning she’d had for someone to hold her hand and care about her thoughts and the jealousy she’d felt for those she thought had someone to do so.

            “Well, we were friends first.” She looks at the curious faces around the room and, never one to miss an educational opportunity, adds, “All the best relationships have a foundation of friendship.” Her eyes shift up to meet Jake’s and she smiles, the rest of the room fading away as she gazes into his kind brown eyes. “And then, I guess I just got really lucky.” Several girls sigh and _aww_ , and the blonde boy makes a vomiting noise before telling everyone to continue the game.

            Several rounds go by with various challenges accepted and achieved. Parker dares Catherine S. to give him a back massage, Jackson has to eat an old Cheerio from off the floor, and Brianna admits that she likes Cooper. Courtney is forced to confess that she still plays with Barbies and Mason is asked how far he’s gone (he says second base and no one believes him), and Amy is beginning to think that maybe this night will go off without a hitch. Eventually, Jake is challenged by his cousin, and he answers dare without a second thought.

            “I dare you to kiss Amy,” David says, and Amy’s breath catches in her throat.

            “That’s not even a dare, she’s his _girlfriend_ ,” Sarah remarks, but David shakes his head resolutely.

            “It should be easy, then,” he responds, and looks at Jake expectantly. Jake’s eyes meet Amy’s and she is unable to read the expression behind them, something both wistful and affectionate swirling behind his depths. She knows it’s just a silly game but her stomach stirs with butterflies as he moves towards her, and she holds her breath and then releases it as he presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

            “Rule number one about relationships,” he says as he crawls back to his seat. “You never force your partner to do anything uncomfortable, and you only kiss when you both want to.” He says the words lightly but there’s none of the usual joking in his tone, and Amy gives him a half-smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. She feels almost disappointed, and she has no idea why – it’s not like she _wanted_ Jake to kiss her, right? He’s staring at her with that same unreadable expression, and Amy feels suddenly off-balance despite the fact that she’s sitting down.

            “Your boyfriend’s kind of amazing,” Genevieve whispers to her and Amy’s eyes slide up to meet Jake’s.

            “Yeah,” she murmurs absentmindedly. “He kind of is.”

 

* * *

 

            Jake and Amy eventually have to end the game after Jackson is dared to take his shirt off and Courtney is challenged to lick whipped cream off his chest, and after successfully de-escalating the situation they emerge victoriously hand-in-hand. The hosts are getting ready to play a montage of pictures of David and all the regular seats are already taken, so Amy and Jake sit on the dance floor with the kids as the projector screen is set up. She rests her head on his shoulder and leans into him to make her position on the ground more comfortable, and he places a kiss at the tip of her hairline before entwining their hands together on the ground between them. She’s not entirely sure whose benefit it’s for anymore; everyone definitely believes they’re dating and no one is even watching them. But she also finds that she doesn’t particularly care, and she reasons to herself that Amy Santiago never does any task halfway. Midway through the montage, a picture of a much younger Jake appears onscreen with a newborn David, and Amy laughs in amazement at the state of his hair.

            “It’s long enough to put in a ponytail!”

            “Trust me, it was way too curly for that. Grew straight up, defied gravity.” Jake flashes an easy smile at her and she smiles back, a giggle escaping her at the mental image he’s created. Before long, they’re saying goodbye to Jake’s mom and wishing David mazel tov (Genevieve runs over to tell Amy that she and Sam French-kissed in the parking lot), and then they’re back in Jake’s car and on the road.

            “I wish I could go back to middle school knowing what I know now. I'd be so cool,” Amy sighs wistfully. “And I'd get to retake all the tests. And update some book reports!” she practically salivates at the thought, and Jake smirks.

            “There’s the Santiago I know! Lame as always,” he teases her but there’s no malice in his words, and Amy rolls her eyes but doesn’t even bother to hide the smile on her face. A few minutes later they’re pulling up to her apartment and it suddenly dawns on her that this is the last time she’ll be in Jake’s car for the foreseeable future.

            “Well, this is your stop,” Jake says, and Amy feels strangely reluctant to leave the car. “All passengers traveling to Casa Santiago, please get off this ride!”

            “Please get off this ride, title of your sex tape!” Amy crows the words triumphantly and Jake’s jaw drops, shock and awe reflected in his expression.

            “Oh my god, Amy made a sex tape joke!” The excitement is palpable in his voice, and Amy isn’t sure whether she should be thrilled or disappointed in herself but she decides to go with it. “A little dirtier than expected, but all in all, not bad.” Their laughter trails off and Amy remains in her seat. She realizes that as far as dates go, tonight certainly wasn’t the worst. In fact, if she were to rank it, it would probably place pretty highly on her all-time list.

            “Are you going to?” Jake’s tone is still light but there’s curiosity just beneath the surface. “Y’know, get off here?” He motions towards her apartment and then towards her seatbelt, which is still buckled. Amy closes her eyes and shakes her head as she quickly undoes the latch and gathers her belongings, trying to shake herself out of whatever strange headspace the night has put her in.

            “Yeah, um, of course.” Tonight can’t be in her ranking of dates because it was fake and therefore wasn’t a date at all, and Jake is her coworker and rival and sometimes friend and nothing more than that. “Sorry.” She’s not sure what she’s apologizing for but she says it anyway, and Jake looks at her with that expression she can’t read, the one that drives her crazy because normally he’s an open book.

            “So I guess that’s the end of our deal,” he says, and Amy nods. He narrows his eyes and lowers his voice dramatically. “After tonight, Peraltiago is no more.”

            “Did you come up with a couple name for us?” Amy raises an eyebrow at him.

            “Charles did, actually. Said he liked this one better than Jamy or Ake.”

            “Figures,” Amy nods in agreement. “He’ll be crushed tomorrow when we go back to being just coworkers.”

            “Yup,” Jake pauses, then his lips quirk up in a smile. “But I’m still telling everyone that you lost to a 12-year-old at Never Have I Ever.”

            “Fine, then I’m telling everyone what your mom told me about how you slept with that dinosaur toy until you were seventeen.”

            “Hey, Greenie was a loyal friend!” he mocks outrage and then they settle into a comfortable silence.

            “Thanks for letting me wear this, by the way,” Amy shrugs the suit jacket off her shoulders and hands it to Jake, immediately missing its comforting warmth and weight. “Goodnight,” she says quietly, and gets out of the car.

            “Goodnight, Amy.” Jake’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. For the entirety of the deal, Amy had been nervous about things changing between the two of them. Now she was beginning to think that maybe she was nervous they wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! as always, please lmk if you liked it; i love reading all of your comments and they fuel me to update faster <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little more plot-heavy, but I promise it's worth it! It's all leading up to the BIG FINALE WOO okay also for real thank you all so much for your kudos and comments, they honestly make my day and I appreciate them more than you know

            Monday morning, Jake plops a book down on Amy’s desk. She studies it in confusion, reading the title out loud.

            “ _Then Again_?”

            “It’s by Diane Keaton. A gift from my mom, since you talked about her so much.”

            “Oh, god,” Amy groans and buries her head in her hands, and Charles pipes up from across the bullpen.

            “Karen got you Diane Keaton’s best-selling memoir?!” He sounds devastated. “That’s all I’ve ever dreamed of. She _knows_ how much I love Diane,” Charles shakes his head in disappointment, and Jake’s eyebrows furrow.

            “Charles, you’ve never even met my mom.”

            “Oh, I know. But the letters I send her are very detailed.” Captain Holt calls them into the conference room for their morning briefing before Boyle can say anything else deeply disturbing, and Amy is relieved when he and Jake are assigned to a stakeout together all day.

            “Don’t let reading distract you from work too much!” Jake teases her as he leaves.

            “As long as you’re gone, everyone will get more work done than they have in weeks,” Amy calls back as he slips out the door, and he shoots her a goofy smile before the elevator doors close.

            “What’s going on with you two?” Rosa mutters, her face neutral. “You’re acting even weirder than usual.”

            “ _Whaat?_ No,” Amy tries to sound casual as she shoves the book into a drawer at the bottom of her desk.

            “Yes you are. You’ve already reorganized your desk four times this morning, and Jake played enough paper basketball to fill an entire trashcan.” Amy glances at the can a few feet away from Jake’s desk, and frowns when she notices it’s overflowing with crumpled up balls of notebook paper.

            “Okay, fine. You know the deal we made?” Rosa nods, her face devoid of any emotion. “Well, we finished it, and now I’m afraid things may have gotten…weird.” Amy finishes lamely and glances up at Rosa, whose mouth twitches in understanding.

            “Just tell him you want things to go back to normal,” she instructs with a shrug, and Amy stiffens sharply at the thought of talking to Jake about the status of their friendship. Rosa’s eyes narrow. “Unless that’s not what you want?”

            “What? No, of course it is,” Amy answers just a little too quickly, and Rosa purses her lips but says nothing.

            At the end of the day, Jake and Charles return, the former triumphantly towing a disgruntled bearded man in handcuffs.

            “Jealous?” he gloats as he returns to their desk, sitting down with a flourish. “That’s the twelfth arrest I’ve made this month; I think you might be losing your touch.” Amy quirks an eyebrow at him before going back to her paperwork and he frowns, clearly expecting more of a response. “Want to hear how we caught the guy?”

            “I actually have a lot of work to do,” she barely glances at him as she responds, but she can still feel the disappointment radiating off his body. Logically, she knows she has no reason to be mad at him; he’s done nothing wrong. But the thought of engaging in their normal level of banter makes her heart ache in a way she doesn’t quite understand, and she’s being cold to him as a response. Avoiding eye contact, she tries to focus on the stack of papers in front of her rather than on the man a few feet away.

            “Cool cool cool cool,” Jake brushes off her rejection and it’s quiet for a few moments before he adds, “Your loss, though. The story involves a ham and cheese sandwich, a fire escape race, and a really bad pun on the word camera.”

            “I’d love to hear it, but some people have suggested that I should focus if I want to ‘get my touch back.’” Amy decides to engage with him, just a little, and the answering smile on his face is worth it. In all honesty, she’s not particularly worried; she’s made nine arrests this month and has been meticulously planning a takedown that, if successful, will double that number. But she lets Jake take this one anyway, trading barbs as they fill out rote paperwork. Across the bullpen, Rosa approaches Charles, both carefully watching their coworkers interact.

            “Boyle,” she intones, her voice low. “Is Jake into Amy?”

            “Oh yeah,” the short detective doesn’t take his eyes off them as he answers. “Big time.”

 

* * *

 

            “Happy tactical village day!” Jake bounces around, excitedly repeating the words to everyone he sees. “Happy tactical village day, Terry! Happy tactical village day, Rosa!” Normally Amy would be annoyed, but on this particular occasion his excitement is warranted; she loves Tactical Village Day along with the rest of the squad and looks forward to it each year. After their morning briefing, Amy chats with Jake as they walk to the bus, discussing his plans to take home the coolest kill prize this year and gently chiding him for his obsession with a cheap trophy.  “Great news,” he announces as they take their seats, Charles in front of Jake and Amy directly behind them. “I think I figured out my persona for this year's tactical village! Introducing Rex Buckingham – British secret agent, ballistics expert, and ladies' man,” he whips his head around dramatically to face Amy and she stares at him unimpressed, a glint in her eye.

            “Yeah, because what woman _doesn’t_ love a guy who’s super into make-believe?”

            “This whole training simulation is make-believe! We shoot paint at fake bad guys, it's called acting. Tell me how I'm any different than George Clooney,” he replies defensively.

            “He has a sexy voice,” Amy comments, and Jake looks affronted.

            “I have a sexy voice! Champagne. Mountain range. Hugs.” He speaks in an affected low voice, and Amy raises her eyebrows.

            “Mountain range?”

            “I couldn’t think of anything sexy to say.” He shakes his head apologetically and Charles attempts to defend him, steadfastly loyal as always. When the shorter detective mentions deep sea trenches Amy decides she’s had enough and goes to sit with Rosa, instructing Jake to think of some sexier words before she leaves. He calls random phrases out to her in the same ridiculously low tone as she walks away, and she turns around to shake her head at him in mock disappointment before sitting down.

            “You’re not very good at being normal,” Rosa states plainly, and Amy turns to her in surprise.

            “Yes I am! We just tease each other a lot. That _is_ our normal.” Amy’s eyes drift to look at Jake across the bus, and she absentmindedly tucks her hair behind her ears. As she watches him, she notices with a jolt that he’s talking about her.

            “How many times do I have to say it? She’s like a sister.” Jake is speaking to Charles and pride swells in Amy’s chest as she realizes the lip-reading seminar she took is finally coming in handy, quickly followed by an uncomfortable sinking in the pit of her stomach.

            “See? He just told Boyle I’m like a sister to him,” Amy tells Rosa, and she means to sound triumphant so she’s not sure why the words come out sounding so weak. She takes a deep breath to steady herself, unsure why she feels so rattled. She’s not sure she would ever describe Jake like her brother, although she guessed their relationship was sometimes reminiscent of sibling bickering. Still, though, there were a lot of words she would use to describe their dynamic – rivals, colleagues, partners, friends – but his familial characterization brought her a sadness she didn’t quite understand.

            A few minutes later they arrive, and Amy is unpacking her duffel bag when a familiar voice calls her name.

            “Amy Santiago?” She looks up to find a tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair smiling at her, and a warmth spreads throughout her body.

            “Hey! Oh my god,” she grins as she wraps him in a hug. “It’s been so long, what are you doing here?”

            “I’m with the eight-two now. We’re paired with you today,” the other cop responds, and Amy’s heart skips a beat. He quizzes her on police codes and Amy lets out an easy laugh before Jake approaches, a broad smile on his face but his eyes wary.

            “What’s going on here?”

            “Teddy and I met at code camp,” Amy explains. “It was a voluntary refresher course on police codes. Some long nights of intense memorizing; it was pretty dope.” Jake’s smile falters, and the three of them talking suddenly strikes Amy as uncomfortable.

            “Sounds dope,” he says carefully, and then places a friendly hand on Amy’s shoulder as he walks away. The physical contact stirs the pit that’s been sitting in her stomach all morning, but she ignores the sensation. _Maybe this is exactly what I need_ , she thinks, glancing away from Jake and back at Teddy. Her former flame had always been easy and uncomplicated, two things that sounded very appealing under current circumstances. After Teddy leaves, Rosa turns to her with an eyebrow raised, and Amy divulges the identity of the man she’d gone on several dates with. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Jake looking annoyed, but decides not to address it and keeps her eyes trained on her female coworker.

            When they’re done setting up, it comes time to test out weapons, and Jake and Amy chat as they examine a new gun. Their banter has returned to normal and Amy decides that’s a good thing; they’re back to acting like their regular selves and that’s how it should be. When Teddy approaches, she smiles, and her affection grows as he challenges her with another police code. Jake tries to insert himself into the conversation with a 69 joke, and although Amy is used to his immature sense of humor, the desperation with which he wants to be a part of the exchange is off-putting. His strange behavior only deepens when he derails Teddy’s attempt to invite Amy to look at handguns, and she is filled with confused frustration as a result.

            Jake’s erratic conduct continues at target practice, where his bizarre attempts to undermine Teddy become less and less subtle. Amy wonders if they have some sort of bad history together, and decides that must be the only reasonable explanation for his behavior. Ignoring the butterflies that lift her stomach every time Jake intervenes, she continues flirting with Teddy, and is impressed when he informs her that the 82 just beat the course record for time. Although she compliments him on it, she generally prefers the 99’s penchant for dramatics over efficiency, and is therefore surprised when Jake insists that they try to beat the record as well, unfamiliar with the sudden seriousness he exudes. When they’re paired together, she is excited because she knows their competitiveness drives them to work well together, plus his antics are always entertaining (no matter what else is going on, that will never change).  Her disappointment at his abandonment of the pursuit of coolest kill becomes too much when Jake gets rid of Rex Buckingham, and Amy is relieved when he takes on the new persona of Vic Kovac, ex-Navy Seal who was double-crossed and left for dead. They slide through the course with ease, their years of working together creating an easy rhythm and trust as they take turns clearing rooms and shooting perps.

            “We might actually do this! I like Vic Kovac so much more than Jake Peralta,” Amy jokes, a breathless smile on her face.

            “Oh yeah, Kovac,” It takes Jake a moment to realize what she’s talking about and Amy is confused; his characters are usually his favorite part of any operation. She corrects him when he recites his invented backstory incorrectly, and he gives her a funny look. “I can’t believe you remembered that.” A small smile spreads across Amy’s face and they continue through the course, eventually reaching the room housing the hostages. When Jake beats the record using Scully’s signature move, she can’t contain her excitement, and her resulting grin feels wide enough to last for the next several years. Her happiness is only furthered when Teddy asks her to dinner, and she eagerly compliments Jake when he returns with prizes. They tease each other and when Jake makes plans for celebratory drinks, her date with Teddy suddenly seems much less appealing.

            “Maybe I can meet up with you guys afterwards?” she asks shyly, and something flickers behind Jake’s eyes as he attempts to keep his expression neutral.

            “Oh, neat. Yeah, of course,” Jake’s words are awkward and stilted, and Amy waits for him to say something more, but all that comes out of his mouth is “boobs, fart, boobs, whatever,” so she nods and leaves to get ready for dinner.

            The date goes well; Teddy is as kind and warm as she remembers, and the conversation is easy. And yes, whenever he makes a joke she thinks about how much funnier it would be if it were delivered by a certain sloppy coworker of hers, and whenever he tells her a story about a case he’s worked she thinks about how many better stories she has about cases she’s worked with her immature partner, but it’s only natural, right? She and Jake spend a lot of time together, plus her two most recent dates-that-weren’t-actually-dates were with him, so it makes sense for him to be on her mind. That was the reasoning Amy employed, and she repeats it over and over again in her mind in the hopes that eventually she’ll start to believe it.

            The next day, Teddy texts Amy asking to see her again. She glances up at Jake, who’s sitting across from her at his desk and playing with a slinky, and the words “like a sister” flash across her brain. Looking back at her phone, she firmly responds that she’d love to, and Teddy immediately texts back with a smiley face and a restaurant suggestion. As the workday winds to a close, Amy slips into the bathroom to get ready, letting her hair down and applying makeup to match her pink button down shirt. She’s on her way out when Jake calls her over.

            “Hey Amy, check it out.” He holds up a golden figure and Amy lights up.

            “No way, you won coolest kill?”

            “Not even close. It turns out anyone can just buy themselves a children’s karate trophy,” he says lightheartedly, and Amy purses her lips in amusement and nods in agreement.

            “Smart.”

            “Yeah.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Hey, before you go, I wanted to ask you something.” He looks nervous and can’t meet her eyes, and curiosity overtakes Amy’s brain.

            “Of course.”

            “I was just wondering…” he finally looks at her and Amy’s breath catches at the shy affection in his eyes. Her heart races, and she wonders if _maybe, just maybe-_ “Are you wearing lipstick?” His eyebrows furrow and Amy is shaken out of the moment.

            “Yeah, I’m going out with Teddy again.” Suddenly worried about why he was asking and conscious of the fact that she’d applied it using the dirty precinct bathroom mirror, she frowns in concern. “Does it look weird? I called my thirteen-year-old niece for makeup tips-”

            “Carly?” Jake interrupts, and Amy is surprised that he remembers her name from the binder all those weeks ago.

            “Yes, actually.” A satisfied smile curls his lips, and Amy pushes away how nice it feels to have someone know her this well. “Anyway, I don’t know if I trust her. She’s very sexual.”

            “You look great,” Jake says sincerely, and Amy is taken aback.

            “Thank you,” she smiles softly, and then curiosity reclaims her. “So what’s up?” She sees the hesitation and something more in his eyes, and she desperately wishes that he would tell her what’s on his mind, that she could somehow fish out an explanation for the unreadable expression that’s been appearing behind his irises more and more often as of late.

            “Oh, it’s not important.” He shrugs nonchalantly, and Amy can tell he’s holding something back but doesn’t want to push it. “I just had a question about a work thing. But have a great date, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

            “Okay,” she whispers back. As she rides the elevator downstairs, she tries to focus on Teddy – kind, friendly, predictable Teddy – rather than the deceptively simple man she’d just left behind. When she steps outside, she takes a deep breath of the cool night air to clear her head, and she is almost at her car when she hears a voice call out her name.

            “Amy!” Jake is standing breathlessly on the front steps of the precinct.

            “Jake, did you just run down all the stairs?” He looks at her bashfully, then holds up a small object.

            “You forgot your lucky pen.” Amy gasps as she reflexively clutches at her purse, rifling through the organized pockets and confirming that the usual spot for her best writing utensil is empty. “And you’re always going on about how you need to be prepared in case you need to write an emergency thank-you note on the go – the chances of which, I’ve gotta say, seem extremely low – and I wanted to make sure you had it.” Amy’s heart swells as she stares at the man in front of her and for a second she forgets where she’s going.

            “Thanks,” she says genuinely, stepping forward to take the pen from him and tuck it safely away. “And for the record, thank-you notes are good for all occasions. I once wrote one for a waiter who gave particularly good service. He _did_ get mad and throw it back at me when he realized I was leaving him that instead of a tip, but when he saw my handwriting and the smudge-free letters he seemed very impressed.” Amy frowns as she remembers the second half of the story and Jake shakes his head at her, soft fondness gleaming in his eyes. She can tell there’s still something lingering on his mind and searches his eyes hopefully for any clues, but is only able to find her own inner turmoil reflected back at her. “Well, I should go,” Amy says after a moment of silence. “Don’t want to have to write Teddy an excuse for being late.” At the mention of Teddy, Jake’s entire demeanor changes, leaning back to add space between them as a guarded shield comes over his expression.

            “Right. Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he smiles then pauses, face furrowed in thought. “Wait, no, that’s useless – you’re way too lame to do anything I would do anyway. Don’t do anything Captain Holt wouldn’t do,” he amends, and Amy chuckles.

            “I’ll try my best,” she responds, then begins walking away. After a second, though, she turns her head around with a sultry half-smile tugging at her lips, suddenly feeling bold. “Can’t make any promises, though,” she speaks in a low voice and she swears Jake looks awestruck. She can feel his gaze on her back as she walks away, but resists the urge to turn around.

            Amy is distracted throughout dinner. Everything Teddy says or does reminds her of something Jake would do differently: when the breadsticks come, she thinks of how he would use them as walrus tusks; when Teddy comments about how loud the women in the booth next to them are, she thinks of how Jake would have put on a high-pitched voice and made up an elaborate backstory for them. When Teddy enthusiastically shares his organization system after Amy mentions hers, she even finds herself missing the teasing Jake would inevitably give her for her quirkiness. When the waiter asks if they want dessert and Teddy quickly asks for the check, she looks at him questioningly and he sighs.

            “Is there something going on between you and Jake?”

            “Me and _Peralta_?” Amy scoffs while inside her heart races. “Of course not, why would you even say that? Do you two have beef?” Teddy looks at her like she’s crazy for asking the latter question, and her heart sinks as her flimsy excuse for Jake’s behavior is thrown out the window.

            “You haven’t stopped talking about him all night.” Amy almost chokes as she thinks back over their conversation. She thought she’d been hiding it well, but she realizes with a jolt that she may have told a few more stories or brought Jake up a couple (or several) more times than strictly necessary. “And at Tactical Village Day, things seemed pretty weird.”

            “Jake is…” Amy searches for the right words, and sighs in frustration when she comes up short. “We’re friends. That’s all,” she hears the lack of conviction in her own voice, and is saddened as she realizes there’s no way Teddy will believe her if she doesn’t even believe herself.

            “Look, Amy, you’re great. I like you, and under other circumstances I really think this could go somewhere. But I don’t want to get involved with someone whose heart clearly isn’t in it,” he says the words gently and Amy isn’t surprised by them, but it still feels like a blow.

            “Cool, cool, cool, cool, don’t worry about it.” Even in this moment, Amy finds herself speaking in patterns that have rubbed off on her from Jake, and she curses internally as she realizes just how right Teddy might be.

 

* * *

 

            The next morning, Jake asks her how her date went, and when Amy looks at the playful smile on his face and the glimmer of something more in his eyes she is suddenly terrified. She’s not sure why she does it, but lying about her relationship status must be her new thing because she tells him that it went great. She watches as he carefully crafts his expression to remain chipper, but she knows him well enough to recognize the slight disappointment in his eyes.

            “ _Noice,_ ” he remarks. “Way to go, Santiago! Up top,” he holds a hand up for her to high-five and she acquiesces with a roll of her eyes.

            Over the next few weeks, things go back to normal, and Amy tries to convince herself that’s a good thing. Jake and Amy squabble and joke throughout the workday and there’s never any mention of their personal lives beyond the occasional sex tape joke. It’s exactly what Amy wanted – so why does she feel like something is missing? Whenever her mom calls and asks about Jake, Amy tells her that things are fine; she knows she’ll have to say they broke up eventually, but Amy doesn’t see any harm in letting the lie go on a little longer. She throws herself into work with a passion even more fervent than before, determined to occupy her free time with cases and crime rates rather than nights spent alone watching HGTV.

            On a Tuesday morning several weeks after her date with Teddy, Amy rushes into the conference room when Holt announces the morning briefing, paying rapt attention as he speaks.

            “We have a very important assignment coming up. Who’s available to work late tonight?” Amy’s hand immediately shoots up, an eager-to-please smile on her face as she shares with the captain that she has absolutely no plans.

            “Lame,” Jake calls out in response, but when she turns around to retort she notices that his hand is raised as well.

            “Santiago, Peralta, thank you for volunteering.” Amy scowls at Jake and Holt raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. “Unless you have a problem with that?” Jake and Amy both quickly assure him that working together won’t be an issue, and that afternoon they’re loading a squad car with gear for a 12-hour stakeout that promises to be both very long and very boring.

            “If I’d known the ‘very important assignment’ was a stakeout of an apartment building where some perp lived 10 years ago, I never would’ve signed up,” Jake grumbles, and Amy raises an eyebrow at him doubtfully. “Okay, fine, I definitely still would’ve signed up, but you’ve got to agree that was a little misleading.”

            “Maybe a little,” Amy acquiesces, as she is admittedly a bit disappointed that she has to spend the next twelve hours monitoring a building (one out of seven, apparently) that an anonymous tip had indicated _might_ be visited by a perp they’d lost track of years ago. The case had been transferred to a precinct upstate after intel revealed that the criminal’s operations were based in Albany, but Captain Holt was hopeful that they’d be able to help out. Once they’ve loaded all the gear into the trunk, they pull out of the precinct, and Amy frowns as she notes the familiarity of watching Jake turn the steering wheel. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m being driven by you _again_.”

            “This is a squad car, not my car, so it’s not really the full experience.”

            “Doesn’t matter, I think the other times have given me PTSD. I’ll never be able to unhear all that Baylor Swift.”

            “You said Taylor’s name wrong just to spite me!” Jake gasps in mock horror and Amy fights a smile. Her phone buzzes and guilt overtakes her when she sees that it’s a text from her mom, and Jake notices the change in her expression when her face falls. “What’s wrong?”

            “It’s nothing. I just,” she pauses and wrings her hands out anxiously. “I still haven’t told my family that we broke up, and I’m kind of dreading having to answer all their questions at the wedding.”

            “What about Teddy?” Amy turns to him, surprised that he thinks they’re still dating. She hasn’t mentioned Teddy in weeks, but then again, Jake hasn’t asked either. She wonders idly why not, then decides not to venture down that train of thought.

            “Teddy and I aren’t together,” she responds truthfully. “Never really were, to be honest.” Jake gives her a strange, soft look, and her breath catches in her throat. The moment is broken when Jake turns the car to the left, and Amy frowns. “Where are we going? You were supposed to make a right to get to the apartment building.”

            “If we’re gonna be stuck in this car for 12 hours, we’re getting snacks first.” Jake speaks decisively, and for once Amy has no complaints about his choices.

            “Ooh, are we going to the bodega on 3rd?” Amy excitedly pictures the aisles of her favorite corner store.

            “Duh,” Jake responds, and a minute later they’re pulling into the tiny parking lot. They walk inside and Jake heads straight towards the candy aisle, and Amy rolls her eyes as she follows him. She’s chastising him for the ridiculous number of gummy bears he’s picked out when a voice interrupts their bickering.

            “Amy, Jake, oh my gosh, hi!” Amy looks up and is extremely startled to see none other than Tia, her soon-to-be sister-in-law, standing in front of her. “How are you?”

            “I’m, um, we’re good,” Amy stammers out as Tia gives them both hugs. Amy makes eye contact with Jake, who gives her a wide-eyed shrug. “What are you doing here?”

            “Tony and I were on the way to a dinner party in the neighborhood and realized we forgot to pick up a hostess gift.” She laughs, and Amy forces out a chuckle. “He’s picking out a bottle of wine right now!”

            “What a fun coincidence!” Amy replies, her voice artificially chipper, and Tia beams.

            “I’m so glad to see you two are still going strong! I’m really happy for you, Amy.”

            “Yeah, well,” Amy wraps her hands around Jake’s arm and he quickly responds, draping his other arm around her shoulder. “Things are just going really well.” She was not at all prepared for this; she’d thought their days as a couple were over and had been mentally preparing herself to tell her family as much.

            “We can’t wait to see you both at the wedding this weekend! We’ve been looking forward to it for so long.” _Oh no_. Amy’s heart plummets as she realizes the corner they’ve backed themselves into, and she looks with panic at Jake.

            “We’ll be there!” Jake speaks and Amy can hardly believe what she’s hearing. She elbows him discreetly and shoots him a glance that asks what the hell he’s doing, but he just shakes his head slightly at her and continues talking. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

            “Yay! I have to go get Tony, he’ll want to say hi. I’ll be back in a minute!” Tia walks away and Amy turns to Jake, immediately pulling her hands away from his arm.

            “What are you doing?” she hisses under her breath. “It’s going to be impossible to explain to them why you’re not there now.”

            “You won’t have to explain,” Jake murmurs back, and Amy is confused. “I’ll just come with you.”

            “Jake, this isn’t just a few hours. This is a whole weekend upstate,” she whispers in a low tone, sure that once he understands what he’s signing up for he’ll back out. Instead, he just shrugs.

            “Free food and hotel stay for a whole weekend? Count me in,” he responds nonchalantly, and Amy looks at him like he’s crazy.

            “You don’t have to do this.”

            “It’s fine, Amy, really. You’ll just owe me one.” He pauses, suddenly looking unsure. “Unless you don’t want me to come?”

            “No, I do, I just,” Amy closes her eyes and shakes her head, then looks back at him. “Thank you.” At that moment, Tia returns with Tony, the latter with a bottle of wine in hand.

            “Amy, Jake, so good to see you!” Amy’s brother smiles widely and they both greet him, making small talk for a few minutes until Tony admits they should probably get going. “See you Friday!” he calls out as they leave the store, and Amy’s heart skips a beat.

            “See you then.” Jake and Amy purchase their supply of food for the day, and Jake sings a made-up tune about “stakeout snacks” repeatedly as they drive to the apartment building. As they set up their gear, Amy reviews the case file, reciting the facts out loud while Jake fiddles with the camera. “Jordan Carmichael. 35-year-old male, ran an underground gun smuggling operation for years out of Brooklyn before moving his whole op upstate right before the cops were able to catch him. Reports say he may be coming back today to retrieve some old supplies.”

            “Uh-huh, right, cool,” Jake responds absentmindedly, and Amy turns to him with a frown.

            “Are you even listening?”

            “Not really. Your voice kind of sounds like one of the adults in Charlie Brown.”

            “The comic strip is actually called _Peanuts_ , not Charlie Brown,” Amy corrects, and then wonders why she’s even bothering. After settling in, they entertain themselves by playing 20 Questions and challenging each other to catch gummy bears in their mouths. When midnight rolls around, Amy begins to doze off, and when she catches herself falling asleep she apologizes profusely to Jake.

            “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he brushes off her apology, but she insists she’ll try harder to stay awake. “For real, Amy, it’s okay. We only have another hour left anyway; I can totally handle it if you want to take a nap.” She’s touched by the kindness of his gesture but still turns it down, citing issues of professionalism and turning up the radio volume in the hopes that the music will keep her awake. The next thing she knows, though, Jake is gently repeating her name, and she blinks her eyes open in confusion. The car is now parked at the station and Amy looks at the clock with alarm as she realizes she slept long enough for Jake to finish the stakeout and drive back to the precinct. She opens her mouth to apologize, but Jake speaks before she gets the chance.

            “Morning, sleepyhead. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss anything. Carmichael never showed,” he informs her, and she sighs with relief.

            “I’m really sorry,” she says, and he shakes his head.

            “It’s all good! I just really wish I had a Sharpie so I could’ve drawn a mustache on your face,” Jake jokes, and she half-smiles, her brain still hazy with sleep.

            “Thanks for agreeing to come to the wedding with me,” she murmurs, and she’s too tired to process the affectionate twinkle in his eye.

            “Best boyfriend ever, back in action,” he says, and the pit in Amy’s stomach lifts for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the inclusion of Teddy! Sadly Amy is a lil bit dumb and would never confront her feelings for Jake unless she was really forced to. I'm so excited for y'all to read the next chapter! As always please validate me with comments and affection, seriously huge huge thank you to everyone who's done so already <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, folks - this is the big one! This chapter is twice as long as all the other ones oops lol. Hope you like it :)

     They leave work early on Friday, Amy citing a family event and Jake claiming a dental emergency (when Charles asks, Jake says he’s having six cavities filled due to his excessive sugar consumption and that no one should see him in his weakened state). She makes them leave an hour apart in order to avoid suspicion, and Jake seems disappointed that he can’t tell the precinct about the wedding but doesn’t push it. The two-and-a-half-hour drive upstate is mostly uneventful; they happen to stumble upon Holt’s Spotify account and spend most of the ride excitedly shuffling through his very logically named playlists and laughing in horror at the sheer volume of boring jazz and classical music that one man can listen to. When they’re getting close, Jake tells Amy to navigate and she pulls the address up on her phone, carefully reading out loud as they drive through the trendy neighborhood.

     “The rehearsal dinner is at a restaurant called Bordeaux.” Jake crinkles his nose at the fancy French name. “Make a right at the next intersection, then go straight for three blocks.”

     “Got it,” Jake responds, and then a moment later his eyes widen and his jaw drops. “No way!”

     “What?” Amy asks in concern, and Jake motions towards a couple walking down the sidewalk across the street.

     “Look!” Amy’s eyes narrow as she struggles to get a good look at the man and woman, and then her jaw drops as recognition dawns on her.

     “Is that-?”

  _“Carmichael,”_   they both state in unison, and they turn to each other in excitement. Happening to see the perp who they’d just spent 12 hours waiting for is the most serendipitous twist of fate either could have asked for, and they stare at each other in eager shock for a few moments. A car honks and Jake steps on the gas, realizing the light has turned green without him noticing.

     “Turn around,” Amy instructs, and Jake protests feebly.

     “Are you sure? The rehearsal dinner -”

     “Forget the rehearsal dinner,” she responds authoritatively, and Jake doesn’t need to be told twice. As soon as he can, he turns the car around, pulling over into the first available parking spot. They watch as the couple enters a nice-looking restaurant, and Jake looks at Amy eagerly. “So what’s the plan?”

     “Okay, well, according to the case file, the reason Carmichael was coming back to the city to get supplies was because he just got a big new customer he’s about to make a deal with. If we tail him, maybe we can get him _and_ the buyer!”

     “We’re already dressed for the part,” Jake says, gesturing to their clothing. Amy is wearing a V-neck black dress with a colorful floral pattern and Jake is wearing a blazer and a navy tie; they won’t look at all out of place inside the upscale restaurant.

     “Do you have any gear in your car?” Amy asks with concern, and Jake grins.

     “Yes! My gun and badge are in the backseat; I tossed them back there when I left work and didn’t bother moving them when I got home.”

     “Thank god you’re so lazy!” Amy cheers, then frowns. “Wow, I never thought I’d be saying that.”

     “Yeah, well, I’ve always known my sloppiness would come in handy someday,” Jake replies with a lopsided smile. “Let’s go catch a criminal.” While Jake gathers his police gear, Amy sends their address to the local precinct in case they need backup, simultaneously trying to make it clear that Amy and Jake are already on the case so as to avoid the opportunity being stolen from them. She also shoots a quick text to Tony and Tia, citing a work emergency and apologizing profusely. They follow Carmichael and his female companion inside the restaurant, nerves and adrenaline coursing through their bodies. “Table for two, please,” Jake tells the hostess, glancing past her to where their target is currently being seated.

     “I’m so sorry, there’s nothing available. We’re totally booked up,” the hostess dismisses them apologetically, and Jake looks defeated. Amy shifts beside him, the gears in her head turning quickly.

     “Oh no, that’s horrible,” she pouts, putting on an exaggeratedly upset manner. “Tonight’s a really important night for us. Johnny and I just got engaged, and this is where our first date was.” Amy wraps her hands around Jake’s arm and leans into him, batting her eyes at him affectionately.

     “Oh yeah, it would mean so much to Dora and me,” he stumbles over the words, but his initial shock dissipates as he quickly plays along. “I would have made a reservation, but I didn’t know if she was gonna say yes, so -”

     “Aw, I love how nervous you were, you little goose!” Amy pecks him on the cheek and wonders if she’s maybe laying it on a little too thick, especially when she sees Jake’s dumbfounded expression. Fortunately, though, the hostess seems to be moved by their display and says she’s sure she can squeeze them in.

     “Looks like all our practice being a fake couple is finally coming in handy!” Amy says enthusiastically once the hostess has left to prepare their table.

     “Yeah, but we’ve gone up a level now – we went from dating to engaged. Things are all just moving so quickly, are you sure we’re ready for that kind of commitment?” Jake’s tone is light and joking, and his eyes are warm.

     “I’d say things are getting pretty serious,” Amy teases back, her voice low. “What do you say, you ready to settle down with me?”

     “Nothing would make me happier.” Jake’s tone is much less lighthearted then before and his eyes are dark and glinting, but before Amy can respond the hostess returns and shows them to their seats.

     “Hopefully we get a table with a good view of Carmichael,” Amy whispers as they walk, and Jake nods, scanning the room for the man in question. Their eyes nearly bulge out of their heads when they’re seated directly next to him.

     “Well, we definitely got a good view,” Jake says under his breath, and they both plaster on fake smiles as they sit down, hearts pounding.

     “You’re the couple that just got engaged!” The woman accompanying Carmichael gasps happily at them, and Amy and Jake chuckle nervously.

     “Yup, that’s us!” Jake takes Amy’s hand and she takes a deep breath, his warm touch steadying her. They’ve acted like a couple before and they can do it again – at this point, it’s like muscle memory. They quickly settle into their usual routine, holding hands across the table and easily answering questions about their relationship history. If there’s anything the past few months have taught Amy, it’s that the best way to lie is to stick as close to the truth as possible, and her believability has improved greatly as a result. When the woman asks Amy how she knew Jake was the one, she doesn’t hesitate.

     “He makes me laugh,” she answers with a soft smile, and Jake stares at her in awe. When Jake is asked the same question, he looks at her bashfully.

     “There’s no one whose opinion I care about more than hers,” he responds, and Amy is filled with butterflies at the honesty in his tone.

     “How cute! Jordy here is too married to work to ever marry me,” the woman says the words with a laugh, but an awkward silence ensues. Amy and Jake eye each other meaningfully.

     “What kind of work do you do, Jordy?” Jake pipes up carefully.

     “I’m in sales,” the man in question answers vaguely.

     “He’s a big businessman,” the woman adds proudly, and Carmichael looks uncomfortable.

     “Y’know, we should actually get going. Can you get the car from the valet, babe? I’m gonna head to the back and give my regards to the chef.” Carmichael stands up and Jake and Amy look at each other warily, carefully calculating their next move.

     “Bye, you guys! Have fun on your honeymoon,” the woman croons, and Amy plasters on a smile.

     “We will! We’re going to Waco, Texas.” Once she’s gone, Jake looks at Amy in confusion at her choice of location and Amy blushes, stammering out an explanation about how the city was just featured on _Dateline_.

     “Alright, this ‘chef’ could be the buyer. We have to follow him.” Jake and Amy pace quickly towards the kitchen, where they see Carmichael nod to a busboy before obtaining a small key from a vent near the oven.

     “We’ve got to see what he does with that key!” Amy whispers, and the noise causes Carmichael to look over at them.

     “Oh crap, he saw us,” Jake whispers frantically, then turns to Amy. “Uh…” She barely has time to process before he’s leaning in and kissing her. She flails her arms in complete shock for a moment before her brain shuts down and her body takes over, her hand curling around the back of his neck as her lips press against his. His mouth feels tantalizingly good, and the warmth of his body beneath her hands is everything she didn’t know she needed.

     “Excuse me.”

     “Oh hey,” Jake pulls away as Carmichael approaches and Amy suddenly crashes back down to Earth. She is acutely aware of their positioning, her hand still around his neck and their bodies pressed against each other, but convinces herself that it’s all for show. “We were just looking for a place to, uh,” Jake licks his lips nervously, and Amy tries desperately to diffuse the situation.

     “Boink,” she fills in the blank for him, and immediately curses her own stupidity but hopes it doesn’t show on her face.

     “Yep, boink. That’s my preferred term for it as well.” She can tell Jake is only teasing her out of extreme nerves, so she nods along vigorously.

     “I get it, newly engaged kids. Enjoy,” Carmichael says with a smile, and Amy has never been so relieved. As soon as he is out of eyeshot, Amy removes her hands from Jake’s body like he’s poison, quickly stepping back to add space between them.

     “Good good good good,” Jake remarks, his voice slightly higher than usual. “We kept our cover intact. Nice work. Quick, professional thinking out there.”

     “Very quick. Very professional,” Amy agrees, and they’re both talking a little too fast to fill the silence while inside their hearts race. “Detective.”

     “Detective.” They shake hands in an attempt to regain some semblance of professionalism. “Let’s get back on the case.” Amy checks her phone to see that backup has arrived, and discovers that the local cops are _not_ happy about their interference. If this doesn’t end well, the whole 99 could get in trouble; Amy shudders at the thought of disappointing Captain Holt. Walking back into the main dining room, they spot Carmichael slip out the back door, and do their best to follow without him noticing. Slipping behind a conveniently located tree, they observe him check his watch before furtively glancing around. “We’re good, right?” Jake asks nervously, and she can tell he’s not talking about their hiding spot. Amy’s mouth goes dry at the thought of their kiss, heart hammering against her chest and confusion wracking her brain at how _right_ it felt.

     “Yeah, totally,” she responds, and she hopes that he can’t see through her façade. “We’re fine.”

     “Good.” Jake shifts his weight, peeking around the tree to ensure that Carmichael is still waiting obliviously before turning back to Amy. “Gosh, I’m hungry. I never actually ate at that dumb fancy restaurant.”

     “Me neither,” Amy confesses. “We can order room service when we get to the hotel?”

     “Are you sure? Room service won’t have your pierogis or potato pancakes.” A strange heat fills Amy as his casual words reveal just how well he knows her, and she is suddenly reminded of the feel of his lips on hers (not that she ever stopped thinking about it in the first place). “Ooh, I bet they’ll have pizza for me though. Maybe I should order it now so later it’ll be room temperature, just how I like it.” Amy rolls her eyes, then notices a burly man eyeing them suspiciously from across the street.

     “Jake,” Amy intones under her breath, but he doesn’t catch her meaning.

     “Okay, _fine_ , I’m sure we can find a Polish place to pick up food from first.”

     “No, Jake, he’s looking at us.” Amy tries to tilt her head casually towards the man but she’s panicking and it’s worked once before and she can’t stop thinking about how warm Jake’s mouth was. “Well, this is happening,” she declares, and Jake barely has time to mutter “huh?” before she’s surging towards him, grabbing the sides of his face and pushing him back against the tree as she engages him in a passionate kiss. He reacts much faster than she did earlier, immediately relaxing into her and meeting her with full force. Peeking her eye open, Amy notices the burly man cross the street and whisper to Carmichael and she separates herself from Jake, leaping triumphantly from behind the tree. “NYPD! Freeze! We are police colleagues!” she yells, and Jake quickly follows, pulling out his gun.

     “You’re under arrest! This is a work event.” Amy knows their comments are ridiculous but when she glances at Jake’s mussed hair and tightened muscles, she finds herself needing the reminder that everything that just transpired was strictly professional. While Jake forces the two criminals to get onto the ground with their hands behind their heads, Amy informs the backup squad to join them, realizing belatedly that they have no handcuffs.

     A little while later, they’re sitting at the local precinct, filling out arrest reports while other cops eye them bitterly for accidentally solving the case they’ve been working on for years.

     “Man, I forgot how long your signature takes. I’m just gonna watch _Braveheart_ on my phone real quick,” Jake jokes, then he blanches, looking panicky. “Given the circumstances, I can see how that might have seemed like flirty teasing or something, but I was legit being critical. You have a problem.” He pauses, then frowns. “No, even that sounded like banter now.”

     “Jake, it’s okay,” Amy decides to interrupt this train wreck before it can crash and burn any further. “Tonight was definitely weird, but we’re…” she trails off and looks at him. “We’re just a really good team. That includes both as detectives, and as a fake couple.” She hesitates before saying the latter, and sighs with relief when he seems to relax at her statement.

     “You’re right, I’m the best detective _and_ the best boyfriend ever. I should’ve known that both at once would be too much for the universe to handle.” Amy rolls her eyes, but is grateful for their return to normalcy. The key turns out to unlock a storage unit containing thousands of dollars’ worth of unlicensed guns, many of which have been linked to various crimes, and the evidence should be enough to lock up Carmichael for the rest of his life and then some. They call Holt to inform him of their success, and it takes several attempts to convey the message because they both keep yelling over each other in a desperate ploy to be the first one to deliver him the good news. Eventually, Jake shuts up when Amy threatens him that they won’t order pizza, but ultimately Holt’s response ends up being much less positive than desired (“You directly infringed on another precinct’s territory against my orders, which is bad, but you successfully captured two criminals, which is good, so I am left in a neutral state. Goodnight.”). They pick up slices of pizza on the way to the hotel, and Jake’s moan of pleasure at the cheesy delight sends a shiver down Amy’s spine that she resolutely ignores. By the time they reach their destination it’s already 11, and Amy wants nothing more than to take a hot shower and slide into bed.

     “Amy Santiago and Jake Peralta, here for the Santiago-Perez wedding?” The employee at the hotel front desk types into a computer before retrieving a keycard and handing it to Amy.

     “Room 413, elevator is down the hall to the right. Enjoy your stay!” Amy glances at Jake, who seems unfazed. _Of course we’re sharing a room; why would Tia book us two?_ Amy isn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of this beforehand but is glad that it seems like Jake has; she doesn’t think she could handle surprise from him right now with all of the confusing emotions swirling through her head. She has nearly accepted their situation when she swings open the door to 413 and her heart leaps into her throat as she notes the layout – there’s only one bed.

     “Um,” Amy looks nervously at Jake as they enter the room, tugging their suitcases behind them. She tries desperately to think of a solution, but the giant white bed dominates the area, leaving little space for a cot or even a small armchair.

     “I’ll take the floor,” Jake says, and Amy is flooded with relief along with a small pang of something else she doesn’t quite recognize.

     “Are you sure? I’m the one who dragged you here, I can take the floor.” Jake looks insulted.

     “First of all, you did not _drag_ _me_  here, I volunteered. And second, my mattress at home is incredibly lumpy anyway. The floor will probably be an improvement.” He smiles, and Amy is grateful for his ability to diffuse any situation with humor.

     “I’m going to take a shower,” she informs him, and when she emerges freshly-clean from the bathroom Jake is sitting at the foot of the bed, where a pillow and a blanket have been stolen and laid on the floor. He is clad in a gray shirt and plaid boxers, and she is suddenly hyperaware of the fact that she is wearing only a thin oversized T-shirt with no bra. The scene feels oddly intimate but somehow still incredibly comfortable, and the sight of Jake lounging in his pajamas fills her with warmth as she’s struck by the domesticity of the situation. The memory of their kisses flashes through her brain and she turns away rapidly to clear her thoughts, desperately trying to quell the heat rushing through her body.

     “Goodnight, partner.” Amy says awkwardly, attempting to sound as professional as possible as she climbs under the covers (and failing miserably).

     “Goodnight, random person who is my colleague and nothing more.” Jake attempts the same thing as well, and she knows he’s just as awkward as she is but she can’t help the disappointment she experiences at his words.

 

* * *

 

     Amy’s alarm blares loudly at 7:30 AM, her third to go off in thirty minutes, and Jake groans, covering his head with a pillow.

     “Why are you getting up so early?” he mumbles, and Amy responds chipperly, already out of bed and pulling on clothes in the bathroom.

     “It’s important to wake up at the same time every day to maintain your body’s Circadian rhythm,” she informs him as she emerges, and Jake uncovers his face in alarm.

     “Are you telling me you get up early even when you don’t have work?!” Amy nods and Jake gasps in horror, and she throws a pillow at him in response.

     “Come on, you should get up too. If you wake up now we’ll have time to hit the gym _and_ check out the breakfast buffet before we have to get ready.”

     “ _The gym?”_ Jake scoffs in disbelief, then blushes in embarrassment when Amy raises an eyebrow at him. “I mean, yeah, the gym. I work out on the daily. Time to get swole!”

     Despite his initial protests, a few minutes later they’re both at the hotel’s small gym, jogging on adjacent treadmills. Due to Jake’s relatively toned physique combined with his questionable eating habits, Amy had always assumed that he worked out a fair amount, but his confusion at most of the machines had indicated otherwise (“We work out every day _on the job_ , Amy! Why would I use some weird metal death trap when I look this good already?”). After several minutes of arguing, they’d settled on running, and Amy had put in headphones that Jake seemed determined to ignore.

     “Hey Amy!” he yells, poking her shoulder incessantly. She glares at him unamused as she removes a headphone from her ear, trying to maintain her pace. “Look how fast I’m going.” Amy’s eyes widen in surprise as she notes the setting of his treadmill, which is one level above her own. Narrowing her eyes at him, she turns up her setting by two levels so that she’s going faster than him, pushing herself to run a little harder. “What do you say we make this interesting?” Jake asks, and Amy’s interest is piqued.

     “What did you have in mind?”

     “Winner gets to take the bed tonight.”

     “You said the floor was comfy!”

     “Yeah, well, that was before you forced me to exercise. I want to sleep on a fluffy cloud!”

     “Okay, fine, you’re on,” Amy agrees, then smirks. “Good luck keeping up!” She turns her treadmill up another notch, and Jake looks at her flabbergasted before changing his own level to match hers.

     Twenty minutes later they’re both drenched in sweat, breathing heavily but determined to win. Amy’s legs feel like Jell-O and she’s pretty sure she won’t be able to stand up after this, but their competitive natures ensure that neither of them will go down without a fight. They’ve continuously challenged each other by increasing their speed and their treadmills are now both going ridiculously fast.

     “Ready to give up, Peralta?” Amy asks breathlessly and Jake takes a few seconds to respond.

     “Never.” Amy’s eyes widen in shock as he turns the treadmill up to its highest setting, which Amy is pretty sure is physically impossible to maintain unless you’re a Usain-Bolt-caliber runner. “Haha! Beat that, Santi-” His gleeful taunt is interrupted when he trips and slides off the back of the machine, no longer able to keep up with its rapid pace.

     “Jake!” Amy immediately steps off the platform to make sure her partner hasn’t sustained any permanent injuries. “Are you okay?”

     “Never been better,” he winces as she helps him up, rubbing a newly formed bruise on his hip. “That’s gonna hurt tomorrow.” Once she’s ascertained that he’s okay, Amy’s lips curl into a triumphant smile.

     “I guess that means I won!”

     “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jake responds, and Amy looks at him in confusion. “Check our distance trackers!” Walking up to the front of the machines, Amy reads off the numbers on the screens, and her jaw drops – Jake has beat her by a quarter of a mile.

     “No way!”

     “Yes way. The numbers don’t lie,” Jake smirks at her, and Amy’s mouth settles into a disgruntled line. “Can we get breakfast now? I’m starving.”

     “We should shower first,” she replies, and Jake can’t help but agree after realizing he’s so sweaty he may as well have just jumped into a pool.

     “Dibs on going first!” he yells and then starts to race out the door, only to whimper “ow, cramp,” and immediately slow down. Amy rolls her eyes and they take the elevator back up to their room. Jake peels his shirt off before entering the bathroom, and upon noticing the sheen of sweat glistening on his chest, Amy tries desperately not to think about _other_ activities they could have engaged in to make him look that way. While he showers, Amy tidies up the room, the routine chores helping to calm her down. Jake’s presence is affecting her much more than usual, and she can’t stop thinking about last night’s events. She knows that it was just a kiss (well, two kisses, actually) and that it didn’t mean anything, but she’d enjoyed the experience far more than she’d like to admit. The last few weeks have been a confusing whirl of feelings, and in a lot of ways, fake-dating Jake has felt a lot more real than she’d bargained for.

     “Did you make the bed?” Amy is too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice Jake get out of the shower, and she blushes as she nods. “You do know we’re in a hotel, right? One of the main perks is that they have housekeeping.”

     “I like cleaning,” she says defensively, and Jake chuckles in amusement.

     “Go take a shower so we can eat. If I have to wait much longer I’m pretty sure my stomach will fold in on itself.” He folds his hands over his chest and collapses onto the bed dramatically. Amy rolls her eyes at Jake’s theatrics but acquiesces, quickly soaping her body and throwing on clothes. They’re soon scarfing down pancakes at the buffet on the ground floor, and Amy is horrified when she notices that Jake eats the center of the pancake first, working his way to the outside and leaving a thin ring around the edges before moving on to the next one.

     “I don’t like the crust,” Jake explains when she asks, and Amy looks at him like he’s crazy.

     “Pancakes don’t have crust!” she exclaims, but Jake is unfazed.

     “The outside part tastes different than the inside part and you know it,” he retorts, taking another bite. “And besides, this way you get a fun syrup hole in the middle.” As if to prove his point, he takes the container of syrup and pours it directly into the spot he’s just eaten, where it forms a small pool. Making airplane noises, he dramatically dives his next bite into the sticky brown liquid before eating it, commenting “delicious” with an open mouth while he chews. Amy crinkles her nose in disgust.

     “You’re gross.”

     “Says the one who’s making a complete mess,” he replies nonchalantly, and Amy is affronted. “You have whipped cream all over your face.” Embarrassed, she dabs her mouth with her napkin, and sees he wasn’t lying when it comes away covered in white foam.

     “Did I get it all?”

     “Almost. You missed a spot right there,” Jake motions to the corner of her mouth and Amy wipes it with the napkin again.

     “How about now?”

     “No, it’s a little to the left.” Amy moves the napkin and Jake shakes his head. “No, not _your_ left, _my_ left – here.” Giving up on instructing Amy, Jake leans over and brushes the corner of her lip with his finger, and Amy momentarily forgets how to breathe. His touch sends tingles down her spine, and she doesn’t exhale until he’s back across the table, a dollop of whipped cream on his finger. “Got it,” he smiles, and Amy smiles back faintly.

     “So what do we do now?” Jake asks when they’re done eating. “The wedding isn’t for another -” he pauses to glance at his watch. “-six hours.”

     “Actually, I have to go get ready soon,” Amy blushes, and Jake looks at her in disbelief. “All the bridesmaids have to go get their hair and makeup done so that there’s plenty of time for pictures this afternoon. Plus there’s a girls’ lunch in the middle.”

     “What am I supposed to do?” Jake pouts, and Amy chews her bottom lip nervously.

     “You have the morning free, but there’s actually a boys’ lunch that you’re invited to.” Jake raises his eyebrows skeptically. “It’ll be my dad, my brothers, and the other groomsmen. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she adds quickly, but honestly she has no idea what excuse she’ll use if Jake decides the lunch is too much.

     “Of course I’ll go!” he exclaims, and Amy tries to hide how relieved she is. “I just can’t believe you trust me to be around your family without you.”

     “I don’t have much of a choice; if I did, this would be going a lot differently.”

     “Really? I thought spending a whole weekend pretending to date a guy you barely tolerate was your biggest dream.” His words are joking, but Amy is still saddened that any part of him might think that she still regards him as her insufferable rival.

     “Shut up, you know that’s not true.”

     “Amy Santiago, are you admitting that we’re friends?”

     “Come on, we’re leaving,” she doesn’t answer him, her thoughts on how very _unfriend-like_ their behavior had been last night, and instead stands up. When they’re back in their room, Amy gathers the supplies she needs for the bridal suite while Jake whines.

     “How am I supposed to entertain myself while you’re gone?”

     “I don’t know,” Amy mutters, preoccupied with looking for her heels. “Take a nap or watch TV or something.”

     “Ooh, Saturday morning cartoons!” Jake squeals, and Amy shakes her head with amusement as he grabs the remote and begins flipping through the channels.

     “Remember, be ready for lunch at 12:30!” she reminds him as she walks out the door, and he yells out a happy “yes!” but she’s pretty sure he’s talking to the characters onscreen.

 

* * *

 

     “Tia, I’m so sorry about last night!” Amy apologizes as soon as she walks into the bridal suite, wracked with guilt at her lack of attendance at her brother’s rehearsal dinner. Tia, however, simply smiles affectionately.

     “Don’t worry about it, it’s totally fine.”

     “No, it is definitely _not_ fine! It’s…it’s _anti_ -fine,” Amy is so flustered even her extensive vocabulary is failing her.

     “Amy, I get it. Your job is important. When you said you’d gotten out of work for three whole days, it seemed too good to be true.” Amy opens her mouth to protest then realizes she has nothing to say to defend herself. “We actually placed bets on whether or not you’d get through the whole weekend uninterrupted. Tony owes me five bucks,” Tia’s lips quirk up in smug satisfaction, and Amy feels briefly guilty for the way she’s prioritized her time. Her guilt, however, is mitigated by the pride she feels at keeping criminals off the streets, so she supposes it balances out.

     “So how are you doing?” Amy gives Tia’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as she takes a seat in one of the row of chairs in front of a long countertop lined with mirrors. Always punctual, she is the first of Tia’s bridesmaids to arrive, so the other chairs are empty. “Nervous? Excited?”

     “A little of both,” Tia admits. “The hotel freezer broke so our cake went bad, and the catering company is scrambling to figure out what they’re going to do about dinner, but it’s all going to work out!” She lists these concerns casually and Amy is shocked.

     “Wow, I can’t believe how calm you’re being! If it were me, I’d be melting down.” Amy is pretty sure that with her meticulous attention to detail and her anxious tendencies, if anything were to go wrong on her wedding day she would enter a complete downward spiral. Given the very small number of people who are able to talk her down when she goes into full-blown panic mode, she doesn’t think she’d be able to handle it.

     “Maybe. But if you’re marrying the right person, none of the other stuff will really matter.” Amy thinks idly of the time that Jake had discovered her claustrophobia when the precinct elevator had broken down with both of them on it. It had been back in the early days of their relationship, when they considered each other bitter enemies, and Jake had made a joke before noticing that Amy had pressed herself into a corner, her breathing rapid and shallow. Whatever words he was about to say immediately died on his tongue as he became serious and concerned, closing the short distance between them to help Amy sit down and take deep breaths. His hand rubbed soothing circles on her back as he spoke in a calm, low voice, and her heartrate slowed as her panic subsided. They stayed like that even after Amy’s breathing had returned to normal, Jake’s presence steady and warm as they sat together quietly until the elevator began to move again. They’d never spoken of the incident and Amy remembers being surprised that her immature coworker had been able to comfort her, and wondered at the time what other sides of her colleague she had yet to discover.

     “Maybe,” Amy murmurs, lost in thought, and Tia smiles knowingly.

     “If you really want to be helpful, distract me! I haven’t gotten to talk to you one-on-one about _your_ man.” She grins and Amy blushes.

     “What about him?”

     “It’s been a couple months now. Are things starting to get serious?” Amy’s mouth goes dry.

     “We’re taking things slow,” she responds, hoping she sounds convincing. “Just going with the flow, y’know, keeping things light and breezy.”

     “Light and breezy?” Tia raises an eyebrow at her doubtfully. “That doesn’t sound like you.” _Lying to my family and kissing a coworker on the job doesn’t sound like me either,_ Amy thinks, but lately she barely even recognizes herself. Before she has a chance to respond, the rest of Tia’s bridal party enters the room, chattering excitedly as they tote bottles of champagne. As Tony’s only sister, Amy is the only one present from her side of the family, but she makes friendly conversation with Tia’s best friend from high school, her college roommate, and her two older sisters. A hairstylist and a makeup artist hired for the day arrive shortly, and before long they’ve all been beautified nearly beyond recognition. The party takes a break to eat a late lunch joined by Tia and Amy’s moms but Amy barely speaks, too preoccupied with her own thoughts. She wonders nervously how Jake is faring with the males of her family – knowing him, he’s probably being ridiculously charming, but also knowing him there’s a large chance he’ll let something ridiculously inappropriate slip. No longer able to bear the speculation, she sends him a quick text asking how it’s going, and he replies almost immediately.

 _Miss me already?_ Amy’s heart flip-flops in her chest.

_No, just trying to make sure you’re not embarrassing me so badly my dad won’t speak to me again._

_Victor? we’re besties. pretty sure he likes me better than u._ Amy frowns at his improper grammar, but decides to let it slide. She texts him for the rest of lunch, glancing furtively at her phone underneath the table as they shoot each other rapid-fire responses. She knows it’s irrational; she just spent all night and morning with him and will see him again in a few hours. But she finds herself missing his presence, and the depth of this feeling terrifies her.

     Tia is the last to get ready, the hair and makeup artists devoting hours of attention to the bride. She looks breathtaking, and Amy’s eyes prick with tears of joy for her sister-in-law as the group makes their way outside for pictures, preparing to meet the groomsmen at the gazebo to take photos of the wedding party. When they arrive, Amy is unprepared for what she sees; standing alongside her brothers and Tony’s other groomsmen is Jake, hair combed and donned in a handsome black tux. They make eye contact and she freezes as she takes in Jake’s expression. He is staring at her in complete awe, slack-jawed and a deep warmth in his eyes. Most of her hair tumbles around her shoulders in soft curls, while small pieces have been wrapped into intricate braids around her head. She’s matching with the other bridesmaids in a pale pink dress, but he is looking at her like she is the single most amazing thing he’s ever seen.

     “Hi,” she says softly, approaching him.

     “You look beautiful.” Jake doesn’t bother with greetings as he rakes his eyes appreciatively over her body, and Amy is unprepared for the intensity in his gaze when their eyes meet.

     “Thanks. The hair and makeup artists did a good job.” Blood rushes to her cheeks at his compliment, and the air between them is charged. “What are you doing here?”

     “At lunch your brothers told me to come early,” he scratches the back of his head nervously. “In case you, uh, wanted to take any pictures together. Since they’ve already paid for the photographer anyway,” The idea stirs something deep in Amy’s belly.

     “Right, of course.” The photographer calls for all the members of the wedding party, and Amy looks at Jake hesitantly. “I have to go, but we can take some later?”

     “ _Toit_ ,” Jake responds nervously, clearly trying to diffuse the strange tension between them. Amy smiles then joins the other bridesmaids.

     Amy can feel Jake’s eyes on her throughout the photoshoot, the heat of his gaze penetrating her core. His eyes track her as she moves from the wedding party to bridesmaids pictures to family pictures, and finally she beckons him over, her heartrate going haywire when he wraps his warm arm around her waist for the camera.

     “Beautiful,” the photographer remarks, snapping pictures as he speaks. “Now turn towards him, put a hand on his chest – perfect, just like that,” he directs them in poses as the camera clicks rapidly. “Let’s get some candids. Look at each other, let me see that love in your eyes!” They do as the photographer says and it takes Amy’s breath away, the mirth and adoration she sees reflected in Jake’s brown depths. “Okay, now, let’s get a kiss!” Jake tilts his head at her, a question in his eyes, and Amy opens her mouth to give the photographer an excuse but can’t bring herself to speak. Jake must see an answer on her face, because his expression changes and he leans forward and kisses her. It’s chaste and gentle and sweet and completely unlike either of their kisses from the night before, a soft press of lips that says nothing of passion but reeks alarmingly of love. Amy’s breath catches in her throat, and her lips tingle with the memory of his mouth long after he’s pulled away. “Great! You’re all done.”

     “Sorry about that,” Jake murmurs as they walk away, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Your whole family was watching. Didn’t want to arouse suspicion.

     “Right, if we hadn’t kissed it totally would’ve blown our cover.” They’re both lying and Amy knows it, but she’s too scared to disrupt whatever fragile balance they’ve managed to create. The photoshoot eventually draws to a close and it’s finally time for the actual wedding to begin. Amy leaves Jake seated at the ceremony, apologizing that she can’t sit with him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, when he’s looking at her, he hasn’t seemed to mind much of anything lately. Amy catches Jake’s eye as she walks down the aisle, accompanied by one of her brothers, and his eyes twinkle with an affection that she can’t help but smile at. As Amy listens to Tony and Tia recite tender vows, she feels a twinge of loneliness in her chest as she jealously covets the kind of love that they have.

     “You were totally crying,” Amy tells Jake later as they walk towards the reception, shuffling along with the crowd at the end of the ceremony.

     “Nuh-uh!” Jake shakes his head emphatically. “I was just sweating out of my eyes. Didn’t you notice how hot it was?” Amy rolls her eyes and they bicker through cocktail hour, barely noticing the time pass in each other’s company. The reception is taking place in the hotel’s ballroom, where the large dance floor has been surrounded by a number of tables with tall floral centerpieces in mason jars adorned with pale pink ribbon. Jake and Amy take their seats and the lead singer of the band onstage announces the couple of the hour, who make their grand entrance with wide smiles on their faces. The musicians begin to play the slow tones of a love song, and the new Mr. and Mrs. Santiago hold the attention of the whole room as they begin their first dance. Amy is happy for them, of course, but the sight also causes her heart to ache; she wants what her brother has and has yearned for it for years. Amy normally prides herself on her ability to make a plan and stick to it, but love has always seemed to be the one area she can’t get quite right. As relationship after relationship have failed (in many cases, failed to even exist in the first place), Amy has had to push marriage further and further back on her life calendar, and a small piece of her is beginning to worry that there’s a chance she may never get there. Halfway through the song, the singer invites everyone to join the happy couple, and Jake looks at Amy.

     “May I have this dance, milady?” he jokingly speaks in an overly formal tone and Amy nods at him with a shy smile. He gives her an over-the-top bow as he presents his hand to her with a flourish, and she takes it gladly. Leading her onto the dance floor, he continues holding one of her hands as he places his other on her waist, and she rests hers on his shoulder.

     “Fair warning: you know how bad I am at this,” Amy tells him, but he just smiles softly as they sway together.

     “Nah, dancing is one thing, but slow dancing is different. You just have to pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

     “And where would I find one of those?” Amy pretends to be puzzled as she cranes her head to look around, expecting Jake to bite back a retort. Instead, he surprises her by releasing the hand on her waist to spin her outwards and then roll her back in until her back is pressed directly against him.

     “Right here,” he breathes against Amy’s ear, and chills rush down her spine.

     “Oh, I see now. Is this part of the ‘best boyfriend ever’ package, or just an added bonus?”

     “Definitely a bonus,” Jake replies, returning them to their previous positions. “I’ll be charging you extra for this.”

     “Are you calling yourself a prostitute?”

     “Amy, in my community we don’t like to use that word.” Jake pretends to be insulted. “I am a _high-end escort_.” She chuckles and they lapse into comfortable silence, dancing slowly as Jake guides her feet to step back and forth. Her eyes drift to Tony and Tia and she sighs heavily.

     “I hate weddings.”

     “What? Why?” Jake scrunches his eyebrows in confusion.

     “Did you know Tia is younger than me? I mean, I’m crazy happy for them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s hard sometimes. Seeing other people this happy can make you feel kind of sad and behind, y’know?”

     “Wow, Amy, I had no idea how bitter you were,” Jake replies, and Amy scowls at him. “Kidding! This is literally the entire reason that most weddings have open bars. It’s the bride and groom saying hey, we know you’re all miserable and lonely, so please enjoy this free alcohol so you don’t bum us out!”

     “Can’t argue with that logic,” Amy nods. When the song ends, they head directly towards the aforementioned bar and each order a drink, which they both down quickly. Amy spaces out as she looks around the room, her gaze eventually coming to rest on Tony and Tia. She stares at them sadly until Jake grabs her attention.

     “How are you feeling?”

     “Another vodka soda,” she tells the bartender in response, and Jake grins before ordering another as well.

 

* * *

 

     An hour later, Jake and Amy are both drunk, the alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams causing the room to pleasantly tilt back and forth whenever they move.

     “Reason #3 why Holt likes me better,” Jake continues the debate they’ve been having for the last several minutes as they sit at their table and eat dinner. “I lighten up tense situations. And reason #4, I’ve got a rockin’ bod.”

     “That does _not_ count!” Amy protests. “I’ve got a ‘rockin’ bod’” - she says the words with large air quotes – “too. Why would Holt care about your body and not mine?” Her eyes widen. “Unless you’re implying that just because Holt is -”

     “God, Amy, no! Get your mind out of the gutter. My incredibly toned physique is important for doing good _police work_. Like chasing after perps?” Amy blushes.

     “Please, don’t try to claim you’re more fit than me. You hadn’t even _been_ to a gym before this morning.”

     “And yet, remind me who won our race again?” Amy scowls and Jake cheers triumphantly. He takes a bite of the meat on his plate, and Amy is pretty sure the moan of pleasure he emits should be made illegal. “It’s okay that you lost the argument, Amy. It’s not like there was a lot at _steak_.” He raises his eyebrows at her expectantly and she groans, shaking her head at his pun.

     “Wow, that was terrible.”

     “Don’t be mean. You’re _steak_ in’ my heart.”

     “I’m leaving.” Amy makes as if she’s going to stand up, and Jake looks at her in panic.

     “No, don’t go! I’ve made a huge mi _steak_!” Amy can’t believe she chooses to put up with this behavior, and decides that two can play at his game. She leans in close to whisper in his ear, making her voice as low and sultry as possible.

     “Hey Jake, want to hear something juicy?” He nods quickly, and Amy smiles. “It’s very hot, too.” She feels Jake’s breath catch, and leans in a little closer. “And extremely rare.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Are you ready?” he nods with a gulp, and Amy whispers so quietly that he can barely hear. “ _New York sirloin._ ” Jake turns to her in anger as he realizes she’s been speaking exclusively in steak puns.

     “No fair!”

     “I’d say it was a job _well-done_ ,” Amy retorts, and they both break out laughing at the absurd nature of their interaction.

     “It’s time for toasts!” Victor Santiago has taken over the microphone at the front of the room. They listen as the best man and maid of honor deliver heartfelt messages of love and well-wishes as well as a few embarrassing stories, and they’re about to end when Tia grabs the mic.

     “Actually, there’s one more toast to give,” she says with a smile, and Amy wonders who it could be. “We know we decided to limit it to two, but before we did that someone very special to both of us had already written a 3-page speech and we couldn’t bear for her hard work to go to waste. Amy, come on up here!” Amy freezes as her stomach drops to the floor. It’s true, she _had_ written a 3-page speech, and under ordinary circumstances this would have been an incredible surprise she would have been grateful for. Now, though, she has had far too much to drink and is definitely way too inebriated to give a speech in front of all of her relatives. Jake gives her knee an encouraging squeeze before she stands and stumbles awkwardly up to the mic. “Here’s a copy of the toast,” Tia whispers, handing her a stack of papers. “From when you emailed it to us in case your own computer missed a grammar mistake.” Amy nods back weakly then turns to face the audience, the room spinning slightly in front of her.

     “Um…” she squints at the paper she holds, trying desperately to make out the words printed there. “Love is…” she can’t bring the paper into focus, and she wonders if she needs a new prescription for her contacts. “Love is…” she looks up at the room and sees her mother whisper to her dad with concern. Avoiding all the judgmental expressions, her eyes search until they land on Jake, who gives her a nod of encouragement. “Love is sometimes unexpected,” she says, forgoing her speech and speaking off the cuff. “We all like to think that we’re in control of our romantic lives – that we’ll meet our soulmates in high school, or that we’ll see each other across a room for the first time, magical sparks will fly, and we’ll immediately know we’ll be together forever.” A few people chuckle, and Amy ploughs onward. “But that’s not how it works. Love likes to sneak up on you, finding you when you least anticipate it. Whether that’s when you’re running late, or when you’re at work,” her eyes flicker to Jake, “or, in Tony and Tia’s case, when you’re standing in line at a coffee shop, both on first dates with other people.” There’s some chatter throughout the crowd as Amy describes how the couple met, and she smiles before continuing. “The two of them walked into that café thinking one thing and walked out with each other’s numbers, and it’s crazy to think where they might be right now if they’d decided to stick to their original plans.” She pauses to smile fondly at them, then looks back at Jake, who’s staring at her with an unreadable expression. “Things never work out quite the way you think they will, but these two prove that that’s not a bad thing. So Tony, Tia, here’s to you – for encouraging us all to expect the unexpected and to embrace what we can’t control, because with the right people we can get through anything.” The audience applauds politely as she steps away from the mic, and Amy is stunned. She can’t believe she pulled that off – yes, she would have preferred to throw in a few more personal anecdotes, and maybe make it a little less trite, but considering her current state she’s very impressed with her performance. Her pride is apparently premature, though, because on the way down the stairs of the stage she trips and lands flat on her face.

     “Amy!” her mom calls out in concern and offers a hand to help her up, and Amy turns beet-red as she stands, everyone staring at her with a mix of horror and worry.

     “I’m fine,” she insists as she brushes off her dress. “Never been better!” Camila frowns, staring at her chin.

     “Mija, you’re hurt.”

     “What?” Amy furrows her brows in confusion and touches a finger to her chin, shocked when it comes away covered in red liquid.

     “I’ll take care of it.” Jake suddenly appears beside her, wrapping a supportive arm around her waist as he begins to pull her away. “Come on, Ames, let’s go get you a band-aid.” Grateful for his intervention, she leans into him as he leads her quickly out of the ballroom. When they arrive at the lobby, Jake instructs her to go wash off the wound while he gets a bandage from the front desk, and the cool water from the bathroom sink feels good against her face. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she focuses on her reflection in the mirror as she tries to determine why her emotions have been so all over the place today. The only thing she can figure out for certain is that everything feels immeasurably better when Jake is around, but she doesn’t want to think about the consequences of what that means. It stings when she rubs soap into her cut, and she’s pretty sure she’s starting to sober up. Jake is waiting for her with a band-aid in hand when she leaves the bathroom, and he gently presses it onto her chin.

     “I don’t know if I can go back in there,” Amy groans. “That was humiliating.”

     “Yeah, I’m gonna ask for the video recording so I can send it out to the whole precinct.” Amy glares at him, and he chuckles. “It’s fine, everyone will get over it. And you have to go back in because you know you’ll be mad at yourself forever for missing this if you don’t.” Although she is loath to admit that he’s right, his words ring true, and they reenter the ballroom.

     The rest of the night thankfully passes without further incident, Jake and Amy laughing as they mingle with friends and relatives and break it down on the dance floor (the latter only occurs briefly when Amy hits her three-drink level). When Tia tosses the bouquet, Amy catches it, and she and Jake are teased relentlessly over their impending nuptials. At the end of the evening, they make their way upstairs, Amy laughing so hard tears stream from her eyes at the jokes Jake cracks.

     “I’m not tired yet!” Jake proclaims when they enter their room, flopping down onto the bed. Amy kicks off her heels and sits down next to him.

     “Me neither. Let’s watch TV,” she suggests, and then grabs the remote and starts flipping through channels. She stops when she gets to a _Property Brothers_ marathon and Jake scoots up from his laying down position, sitting up against the pillows with his legs stretched out in front of him.

     “Ooh, this show’s the best. The brothers get annoyed with each other constantly.”

      _“What?_ No, Jonathan and Drew love each other. It’s all about the fighting couples.”

     “They’re not fighting! I mean, they bicker a _little_ , but there’s a lot to decide on when they’re building their dream home!”

     “Fine, let's make this interesting,” Amy hops off the bed and walks over to the room’s mini-bar, returning with a small bottle of tequila in hand. Jake furrows his eyebrows.

     “Are you sure? We’ve already had a lot to drink tonight.” Amy shakes her head.

     “My buzz is _definitely_ wearing off, which means yours probably is too.” Jake takes stock and notices that she’s right; he’s definitely less drunk then he was an hour ago. “What’s wrong, Peralta?” she scoots close to him on the bed, leaning over him tauntingly with the bottle. “Can’t handle a little friendly competition?”

     “You’re on,” Jake snatches the tequila bottle from her hands. “You have to drink whenever the twins bother each other. That means whenever Jonathan blows the budget, and whenever either of them insult each other.”

     “Fine. _You_ have to drink whenever the couple argues. So every time one of them oversteps the budget, every time one of them picks something they did _not_ talk about together, and every time either of them cries.” They shake on it, and settle in for a long night.

 

* * *

 

     By the end of two episodes, Amy’s buzz has returned full force and then some. In all honesty, she was drunk halfway through the first episode. But two episodes in Amy is hammered, making her level of inebriation at the wedding look like peak sobriety in comparison. Jake isn’t faring much better, his attempts to be witty making less and less sense as his mental capacities quickly fade. At some point they’d ended up lying next to each other on the bed, their proximity making it easier to pass the bottle (which is now empty and has been tossed haphazardly on the bedside table) back and forth. Her head rests on his chest and her body is tucked against his side, Jake’s arm around her tracing lazy circles on her shoulder. As the third episode begins, exhaustion begins to take over and Amy’s eyes flutter closed, a content sigh escaping her lips as she snuggles into Jake’s side. She dozes on and off throughout the next 45 minutes, commenting intermittently on the granite countertops and open floor plan. She’s snoring softly by the time it ends, but stirs when she feels Jake move to get up beside her.

     “What are you doing?” she mumbles with her eyes still closed, the words mushing together. He chuckles, and the movement of his chest reverberates through her.

     “I’m going to go sleep on the floor,” he tells her gently, trying to disentangle their interwoven limbs. “Go back to bed, Ames.” She frowns at this and holds him tighter.

     “Don’t go.” He freezes underneath her. “You’re comfy, and warm, and,” she opens her eyes to look at him, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

     “Amy -” he opens his mouth to say something and then stops, softening at her expression. He stands and she is seized with disappointment, but he turns off the light and returns a second later with a blanket, which he drapes over both of them as he lies back down. She hums contentedly as they resume their previous positions, and is fast asleep before he can even whisper “goodnight, Amy.”

 

* * *

 

     When Amy wakes up, there is someone in bed with her. More accurately, there is someone spooning with her – her body is curled around one much larger than her own, her arm slung across a warm, solid chest whose steady rise and fall brings her comfort. _This is nice_ , she thinks, still half-asleep, and shifts closer to the cozy presence. Suddenly, her eyes shoot open as she jolts awake, scrambling backwards as she realizes who exactly she’s cuddling with. The movement causes her head to throb, and she winces as memories of last night and the copious amount she had to drink come flooding back. Light is filtering through the blinds and she turns to the clock, panicking as she realizes it reads 10:18.

     “Jake,” she hisses, shaking his shoulder. He rolls over in response, groaning “5 more minutes” before falling back asleep. Amy gets up and turns on the light, desperate to get ready as quickly as possible. “Jake, come on, we have to get up.” She returns to the bed and Jake peeks an eye open at her, immediately shutting it as he crinkles his nose.

     “The light is so _loud_ ,” he mumbles, and Amy rolls her eyes but can’t help but agree with his nonsensical statement.

     “I know, I’m hungover too, but we overslept and we’re supposed to be at brunch with my family in -” she glances at the clock and frowns as she sees another minute has passed. “- 11 minutes.”

     “What happened to your Circadian rhythm?” Jake grouses, sitting up and stretching his arms. He looks incredibly cute like this, hair mussed and his voice thick with sleep, but Amy has bigger things to worry about at the moment.

     “It got distracted by alcohol,” she responds, despite the fact that she knows there was a much bigger, more important distraction that led to her failure to wake up. She’s still wearing her dress from the wedding, and when she walks into the bathroom she notices her makeup has smudged all over her eyes. Fighting the nausea that rocks her stomach, she brushes her teeth and washes her face, throwing on a bare minimum of makeup before stepping back into the bedroom. She is shocked to see that Jake looks 100% ready to go, fresh clothes on and hair brushed.

     “How did you do that so fast?”

     “Amy, it takes me less than 4 minutes to get ready every morning. If I take longer than that I’m either going to a funeral, the premiere of _Diehard 6_ , or it’s the one morning a week I brush my teeth.”

     “They’re making a _Diehard 6_?” Amy asks, then shakes her head. “Wait, that was definitely not the most concerning part of that sentence.”

     “You should get dressed, slowpoke,” Jake’s lips quirk up. “Maybe I’ll even use this extra time to floss.”

     “I’ve never been so proud,” she responds, then grabs the short-sleeved red button-down dress she’d carefully hung along with the rest of their clothes when they arrived. They make it to brunch at 10:32, and if any of Amy’s relatives notice their slightly disheveled states they thankfully say nothing. Food improves their hangovers slightly, helping Amy’s constant urge to puke to subside but doing nothing about the throbbing in her head. However, not even the miserable state of her body is able to distract her from her flurry of emotions she’s experiencing towards her partner. She can’t even remember the last time she spent the whole night in someone’s arms, and she can’t believe she let it happen between her and Jake. She’s ridiculously comfortable around him, making it far too easy to fall into unsettlingly close forms of intimacy. The line between friendship and romance was getting extremely blurry, and most terrifying of all was the fact that Amy wasn’t even upset about it.

     The drive back home is quiet, both Jake and Amy tired, jittery, and absorbed with their own thoughts. She’s not sure Jake even remembers last night given that she woke up before he did, and although she desperately wants to tease him about being the little spoon, her fear of discussing their relationship outweighs all else. When they pull up to Amy’s apartment, they both sit for a moment before turning to each other.

     “Thanks for coming,” Amy speaks at the same time that Jake says, “I’ll help you with your suitcase,” and they both laugh nervously, the air between them thick and heavy as they get out of the car. True to his word, Jake carries her bag up to the front of the building, and Amy's chest clenches at the thought of having to say goodbye. “You know, I think the perfect boyfriend would bring my suitcase all the way up to my apartment.” She’s no longer in control of the words coming out of her mouth, and something flashes behind Jake’s eyes.

     “If you insist,” he replies, and follows her inside after she turns her key in the lock. One elevator ride later, they’re standing in front of her door, and Jake lowers her bag to the ground. “Well, I think my boyfriend duties are done,” he says, but makes no move to leave. They stand facing each other in the small doorway, electricity crackling in the space between them, and Amy realizes there’s no use denying it any longer – she is stupidly, desperately into Jake Peralta, and he is just as stupidly, desperately into her. She’s not sure who leans forward first but their lips meet in a searing kiss, as gentle as it is passionate. There are no family members or criminals or photographers present and it’s just Jake and Amy, basking in the moment and here for each other and each other alone. Amy curls her fingers into Jake’s hair and everything in her resonates with how absolutely _right_ this feels, joy and relief and affection and a million other emotions coursing through her body. Her senses are overwhelmed with _Jake_ , somehow feeling him everywhere all at once, and she wonders why it possibly took them so long to get here. They finally pull away and Amy smiles at the absolute wonder in Jake’s eyes, knowing his expression is definitely mirrored in her own.

     “Actually, I think you might have to keep doing those boyfriend duties for a little while longer.” She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck, and Amy swears she’s never seen him look happier.

     “I think I can manage that.” Jake leans in to kiss her again, and this time Amy knows there’s nothing fake about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, that's it! I couldn't write a fake dating AU without paying tribute to the best canon fake dating scene in existence, so Johnny and Dora just had to be thrown in there. These dummies kissed 3(!!!) times before figuring themselves out, silly dorks. Thanks for sticking with me through this whole thing, I really hope you enjoyed! To everyone who has commented, bookmarked, subscribed, or left kudos, I appreciate you from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank youuuuu <3 I might be tempted to write an epilogue, so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in!


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